Faith & Love
by Miki Mouse in Blue Jeans
Summary: On a chilly night in 1921 Esme Platt jumped off of a cliff, she lay in the morgue slowly dying when Carlisle Cullen saved her life. Faith & Love explores the story of Carlisle and Esme Cullen, and how an act of following was turned into an act of love. Canon.
1. Second Chances

_Authors note: As with all of my __stories, Faith &amp; Love will begin with third person to set the scene, but will be written in first person for the remainder of the story. Thank you, enjoy._

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**Faith &amp; Love**

_Chapter One: Second Chances_

_Ashland Wisconsin, 1921_

On the outskirts of Ashland there was a funny old house surrounded by isolation. Everyone knew where it was, and why it was empty, and naturally, everyone was filled with an odd sense of apprehension about the dwelling, which prevented their prying eyes from looking. It was made of dark weatherboard, two-storey with a porch, and windows with boring, plain curtains. No one visited the abandoned house, and that suited everyone very well.

The house offered a contradiction, it promised privacy and seclusion, a haven far away from the curious eyes of small town folk, but in turn it's mystery came with gossip. For who on Earth would buy such an infamous unwanted house? Whoever it was, was a recluse, who could live through a few months of scrutiny, whoever it was, was a hermit, who preferred their own, or family's company, but nobody expected whomever it was to be the two men that bought it.  
This was the first reason that the good people of Ashland talked about Doctor Cullen and his orphaned nephew Mister Masen.

The second reason became apparent upon first glance of either of their faces. If you swore to anyone who had ever seen them, that marble could not walk, they'd tell you are wrong, and then they'd say go to the hospital and see for yourself, because Doctor Cullen was made out of marble. However, truth be told, next to him the statue of David looked boring, the pauper standing next to a king, because this man was sculpted better than Michelangelo could have ever dreamed accomplishing, you see, Doctor Cullen was the work of God.  
And upon a quick glance at young Mister Masen, conformation would hit like ten thousand blocks of gold, that marble really could walk and talk.

The third reason for the gossip, as unfair as it may be, was because the two were both bachelors. Never had anyone in the whole of Ashland possessed such inviting prospects. Young, good looking, intelligent, and with more money that one could dream of, Doctor Cullen and Mister Masen had found themselves a permanent home in the lustful eyes of almost all women in town.

But just out of Ashland, there was a quiet little place, which knew little of the young men's effects, and that is where, on one particularly cold night, a young woman happened upon a refuge.

It was almost sleeting when she arrived at the home for widowed women, her heart pounding rapidly in her chest. She was welcomed in with warm open arms, and no one asked her any questions. She was not a topic for idle gossip; she was merely another face in the crowd. A young schoolteacher, widowed by the war, expecting her first born that May. She was a pretty little thing, with big warm brown eyes and dimples that pinched at both of her cheeks, her brown hair had streaks of gold, which made it all seem a slight shade of caramel when the rare burst of sun broke through the ever present clouds to sprinkle her head with light.

So Christmas passed and the New Year came, people had settled with knowing that Doctor Cullen and Mister Masen owned the house no one liked, they were beautiful and out of reach, and then a little way out of town, a young mom-to-be, who taught English and Maths at the local primary school, kept her head down but her small hopes up. This was her shot at a brand new life, and somehow she knew, some people really did deserve second chances.

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_The Cliffs Above Lake Superior, 1921_

"But alas that was not to be," a soft murmur of a small woman wafted through the wind, "Perhaps that would be fitting for a gravestone."

Lake Superior glistened in the odd light emitted from the clouds that blocked the moon.

"Or maybe she loved," she mused, "But no one loved her back, it's a tragedy but life is that."

Her eyes did not glisten with a single drop of saline water as she gazed upon the lake below.

"I suppose I know, I won't get a gravestone, nor a funeral, but I don't care. Oh, what am I doing?" she sighed, "I'm not picking out my own gravestone, I'm not the one who died. Why am I even talking out loud, there's nobody here, there never is."

She brushed a wayward lock of windblown hair and then tucked it back into place. "What is a fitting statement, to last forever, about my son? He died before he lived, he was taken too young, or perhaps angels don't belong bound to Earth."  
She took a deep breath, and she tried her very best to shake away the numbness that had set inside of her heart. "Angels don't belong bound to Earth," she whispered, "Angles don't belong bound to Earth."

And it was not as though she planned it, but yes, she always knew, she'd never come back from her walk to the cliff, because there is a right and a wrong for everybody, and it was right for her to jump off of that cliff.

But it was wrong for her to believe she no longer could live.

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_Ashland General Hospital, 1921_

"Heaven help you!"

"I'm a nurse, not a nun."

"Perhaps not, but you do rather look like one."

"Oh, don't be so prudish, it's the 1920's. People are allowed to say what they think and feel."

"But not things as indecent as that! Surely you can't think we'd approve!"

A young woman, and a little older one stood at the end of the corridor, they were round a bend from where he stood, and they spoke low enough for no curious ears to catch what they were gushing about. They didn't know, however, that the subject of their talk in hushed tones had no problems hearing words a mile away. So all of their efforts and their very best attempts at hiding their bold topic of talk were futile and pointless, for the good young doctor tried his very best _not_ to listen, but their talk was so very loud to him.

The blond doctor who they pined over, glanced down at his charts, and realised he'd nowhere else to go, for he'd finished every duty on his list. Of course he could go to his office to write up the reports, but that entailed manoeuvring passed the gossiping women down the corridor and round the bend, and the thought of it was not at all delightful. So Doctor Cullen turned the other way, and walked back down the hall. Incidentally, in a twist of fate that would alter his life exceptionally despite his not knowing so, he found himself soon to be in the company of his colleague, Doctor Dawson.

"Dr. Cullen," the old man nodded in acknowledgment, his sad eyes not once looking at Doctor Cullen directly.

"Dr. Dawson," he offered up a small smile, "How are your patients?"

"Oh," Doctor Dawson murmured in surprise at what was a rare question from Doctor Cullen, "They are all well, I'm afraid I'm pressed for time. I must finish my rounds and then visit the new body in the morgue. A young woman, I'm told. It's always the young women and children that are the very worst sights to bear."

Doctor Cullen nodded, "I must agree. I do find myself with some spare time upon my hands, and if you would like, I could examine the body instead?"

A little of the lost light returned to Doctor Dawson's aging eyes as he eagerly accepted Doctor Cullen's offer. So the two men parted, each for the stairs, one going up to an ordinary day, and the other going down to a monumental change.

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_A.N. Reviews are most appreciated_


	2. What She Fell For

_Chapter 2: What She Fell For_

_Ashland General Hospital, April 1921_

His footsteps echoed on the clinical floor of the long staircase, until he found himself in the darkest part of the entire hospital. Of course, to him, it was not dark at all, but something about the way morgues were perceived altered the way he considered this place. He did not fear any lurking ghosts, but apprehension curled low in his stomach as he grew closer to facing the devastation of a lost young life.

The morgue was rarely empty, living people often haunted those halls, but Doctor Cullen found himself oddly alone that night.

He listened to the steady beating of his feet, for no hearts could be heard near, and he lovingly considered the sight that awaited him at home. Days in morgues before Edward's company had been most unpleasant, but the assurance that he would not be alone when time came for him to be at his home warmed his long since frozen heart.

He had served a long sentence of loneliness, and it was gladly ended nearly three years before.

A good friend he had found in that young boy, who was tortured in his very own way, but the two of them were thick as thieves. They were nomads who found temporary homes. Doctor Cullen did not like to think he and Edward were a coven, because the word was too impersonal to suit. No, the two of them were companions, they were friends, and that suited them a great deal more.

Doctor Cullen reached the end of the hall, and pushed open the door that he faced. As soon as the two rooms were one for a moment, a scent like he had smelt but once before assaulted his senses and left him breathless.

He had to be wrong, it couldn't be.

Without thinking twice, he scanned the room, and quickly moved to the source of the smell. A delicate body lay beneath a sheet, which Doctor Cullen hesitantly gripped between two gentle fingers. If he had embraced the animal within, he needn't have had pulled back that sheet to know the truth, but the truth seemed like such a lie, which he needed more than one sense to tell.

She was battered and bruised, beaten and bloody, but he knew her all the same. With her heart shaped face and her hazelnut doe eyes that lay closed beneath the mattered hair, he recognized her so easily, even though she had taken on age in the past ten years, but that was how it naturally worked. Her wet mattered hair was a slight shade of caramel and despite it's condition, it had always filled Doctor Cullen with such warmth and reminded him of what home should feel like.

He wondered to himself as the feelings of distress flooded his body, what had happened in her life to lead her to this. The girl he once met was the opposite of what lay in front of his eyes, for the girl she used to be was life and the woman she was now was death.

He lay a tender finger on her cheek, and murmured her name; it felt oddly familiar on his tongue, "Esme."

He heard a strange noise then, it was awfully faint, but it was the familiar sound of a heartbeat. His brow furrowed as he looked to the woman who lay on that cold metal slab.

"Esme?" He asked in wonder.

He listened more closely now, and he wondered exactly how he hadn't heard it before, because it was there, no matter how faint, her heartbeat was there, she was still alive.

He remembered her so well as a vivacious young girl, who spoke softy and liked to climb trees. It broke his still heart to see her this way, after she spoke of such hope with such passion, so more than anything logical right then, he wanted to give her that hope she deserved. He wanted to give her all of her dreams, because she deserved so much more than what led her to this.

He didn't think twice about why she would jump, he just knew he needed to apologize to her on behalf of the world, because someone so bright and happy and sweet didn't deserve anything but the purest love, and Doctor Cullen believed when he saw her lying there, that he and Edward could give her just that.

So he placed a gentle peck on her soft little cheek, and then dashed to the door in case of humans. Perhaps it was God's work that the busy halls were empty, for there was not a single soul in sight.

So he ran back to Esme and he picked up her charts, writing _'Suicide, body removed' _then he took a deep breath, brushed back the hair on her neck, and he ever so gently he pressed his lips to her lovely soft skin and pierced it with his razor-sharp teeth that were designed to destroy.

Once he was done he ran to the sink and spat out the luscious blood, he knew he didn't have long before the searing pain began fixing all of the cells in her body, and seeing how much was broken, he considered perhaps her pain would be worse than it was for those less wounded when changed. He also knew that the moment the pain hit, the screams would begin, so he gently picked up her broken body and dashed out the door down the hall. There was a fire exit at the end of the way, and he ran out it as fast as he could. He was blessed in that very moment, that he could run so fast no one could see, but he ducked into the forest on the edge of town, just in case, as a precaution.

He was very nearly home when he heard a slight whimper coming from the woman in his arms, "Shh, you're okay," he murmured, "You're going to be okay now."

He watched as her eyes began to flutter.

Her hazelnut orbs grabbed a hold of his face as she let out another soft whimper.

"The pain will get worse before it gets better, but then it will be gone forever. I promise you this, Esme, I promise."

Her eyelids fluttered again, and again, and her face contorted in pain. He was very nearly home when she murmured so soft, "Doctor Cullen? Is that you?"

For the millionth time that night his still heart stopped and he looked down upon her face in surprise.

"I'm here Esme, it's me. I'm here and you're okay."

"It hurts," she whispered so gently.

"I know, but it won't last forever."

She didn't reply, but she did close her eyes as apprehension flooded his veins. Soon, he thought, she'll really know what exactly forever entails.

He reached the house then and threw open the door, bounding up the staircase.

"Carlisle! What is this?" He heard Edward shout from the piano in the sitting room.

_I had to Edward, I'm sorry. She was so full of life, I couldn't let her die, I needed to give her a chance._

He placed the young woman down on the sheets in the spare room that he would offer as hers.

"She jumped from a cliff, Carlisle! She wanted to die! So you give her the very opposite? That's not compassionate, that's selfish!"

_You don't understand, _he whimpered in his head, _It was _something_ I had to do._

"No I don't understand, you're right about that, but Carlisle? Neither do you. I'm going to hunt so I can come back and help. The gossip will start up again if a body goes missing and Doctor Cullen does too."

_Thank you, Edward. Thank you._

Edward appeared in the doorway of the room in that moment, some new feeling flickering in his eyes. He looked at the woman, with her grimace of pain and then he gave a small nod.

"She remembers you, Carlisle, she remembers you well."

Doctor Cullen gave a small nod to the boy, whose brown hair shot out in all angles, "It seems so," he murmured as he reached for her hand, it was still warm from the heat of her blood.

"And you remember her, quite vividly so." Edward remarked in an airy tone.

Carlisle couldn't help the irrational grin that spread upon his face, "She's like nothing else in this world I've seen. Her heart is so wild and sweet, I can only remember ever feeling fond, especially when she murmured that she had fallen from a tree. Everything about her was endearing and captivating in such a strange way. She was smart and kind, and funny and free. I don't believe she could have lost that quite so easily. I hold a glimmer of hope she'll find happiness in this curse I've bestowed upon her. If she is still the same girl, then I know for a fact she will."

Edward gave Carlisle a tight little smile, then nodded and turned his back, "Tell me about her when I come back. She seems like she'll be easier than I was at least."

Carlisle let out a rueful laugh, "No newborn is ever easy, Edward."

The young boy did not give any reply, so the Doctor looked back to the woman on the bed, and whispered sweet words to soothe, and in that very moment, in that very place, the old house on the outskirts of town, our sweet eternal story begins.

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_A.N. Next chapter will change a little, and we will see the rest of the story through either Carlisle's, Esme's or Edward's point of view._

_I hope you're enjoying the story so far, reviews are always appreciated._


	3. When The Fire Stopped

_A.N. I hope you don't mind the swap to first person __narrative. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own any aspects of the Twilight Saga._

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_Chapter 3: When The Fire Stopped_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, 1921_

_Carlisle_

Edward did not hunt for long, perhaps he was too intrigued about Esme, but part of me thought he didn't want to miss anything, namely the chance to remind me that I was not the only member of our coven. I had been alone for a great many years, most of which were not what I would consider the most pleasant times, but I made it through them none-the-less, yet now that Edward and I had each other I sometimes found myself struggling with the balance of power. Compromise was something I would have to grow very adept at, and so far, side from this one incident regarding Esme's changing, I had found myself to be rather suited to the art of it.

Edward sniggered from the other side of the bed, I looked up to see him grinning deviously at me. I grinned back.

"It's almost time for your shift," he murmured once his expression had sobered and morphed into a more sombre look, "I know you don't want to leave, but I promise I'll take care of her."

I nodded and took a deep breath as dread filled my body, "I know you will."

"And maybe while you're at the hospital you could see if she'd got any records that might tell us what led up to her debacle with the cliff?" He suggested.

I gave Edward a reproving look, "I don't much think they were the right choice of words, Edward."

He gave a flippant shrug as a sardonic grin spread across his face, "Perhaps not. I suppose with a woman in the house I'll have to think a little harder about what I say. We'll have to be debonair, Carlisle, we'll have to be fit to house a lady."

I sighed at Edward's sniggers wondering what one Earth was going through Esme's mind, to make him so much more light hearted than usual in such a dark moment. It was most unusual for Edward's dark, artistic soul.

"Soul." He scoffed.

I sighed and ignored the long standing debate, "I best be off."

He gave a small nod, "And we'll be here, exactly the same when you get back." Pausing, he looked thoughtfully in the distance, before his eyes quickly flicked to me, and he flexed his muscles, "Mind you, I might change seats soon, I don't want to putrefy."

I let out a small laugh and shook my head, "That only happens over centuries, Edward."

He gave another flippant shrug, and focused his eyes upon Esme's face, caught up in something new she was thinking. "Have a good shift," he murmured absently as I left the room.

I thanked him in my thoughts.

My day at the hospital seemed to drag on for a much longer time than I would have liked. As always, I finished my duties quite readily, and found myself with time on my hands. So, I decided to act on Edward's suggestion of finding out more about Esme. I found her medical records in the notes of the third colleague I checked, and my heart broke at what was written upon that page.

_Esme Anne Platt gave birth to Timothy John Platt on April 11__th__ 1921 at 1651. __Timothy John Platt died of lung fever April 14__th__ 1921 at 0431._

That small page with only two sentences written in a fancy hand upon it, told me everything I needed to know about Esme's final choice.

That night when I returned home, I went straight upstairs to the bedroom without a second thought. The old stairs creaked as I quietly ascended them, and it briefly crossed my mind that I had always wanted to do something about them. Not just varnish, but sand and fix, I'd just never really gotten round to it. It was low on the list of important things. When I reached the top of the stairs, I turned to the left and went down the narrow hallway that led to the master, which would be Esme's room should she decide to stay.

"How are you both?" I asked Edward when I entered the small, dark room.

He looked up from his seat in the corner. "I'm swell," sarcasm drenched his tone, and his eyes drifted back down to the squirming body of the screaming woman atop the bed. "She's doing well too, considering her circumstances."

I sighed, and wandered back over to the chair by her bed that I had occupied earlier. I sat down slowly as more screams pierced through the otherwise quiet room, more intense than before.

Edward's brow furrowed as he looked down and pondered Esme, no doubt in response to something that flickered across her mind.

"What is she thinking about?" I murmured a question I had never asked before, wondering if it would become a regular speculation of mine, and feeling slightly quietly at the intrusion. I had always imagined that Edward would feel such an emotion when he heard the private thoughts of an individual, but I was yet to ponder the curiosity that may come with such a gift.

"You, now, but before she was thinking about a baby," his voice was mostly monotone, but slight curiosity tinted it.

I sighed, my head fell down into my hands, and I raked my fingers through my hair before I nodded.

"Please don't tell me she has a family," Edward whimpered in a wondered voice. His worried eyes flicked from hers into mine.

I shook my head quickly, and focussed on his face rather than revisiting the file I'd seen earlier int the day. "You and I both know she never would have jumped off of that cliff if she was leaving a family behind."

He took a deep breath and nodded, his brow furrowed slightly. "Stop trying to hide your thoughts from me. What did you find at the hospital?"

Realising there was never any use fighting Edward, I closed my eyes and pictured the paper I found in my colleagues files.

I heard him give a sad sigh, and opened my eyes to see his face, but he had concealed it in an unfeeling mask.

"A tragedy." I murmured.

Edward nodded, "She can hear us talking. She doesn't understand who I am, she thinks I sound too young to be a doctor, but she can't make any other sense of it. She thinks she's slowly dying, but she can't comprehend why it's taking so long, or why you promised her that she would be okay soon. But she remembers her son. She sometimes thinks she's already dead, and burning in hell for what she did, but then you're here and that confuses her, she religiously believes that you've only a place in Heaven, and you'd never be in hell, but she's a little sad at the thought of you being either place."

My brow furrowed, "Why?"

Edward sighed in such a way that the sound inferred I should already know, "Because you'd have to be dead to be in either of those places, Carlisle, and she's saddened at the thought of the world without the magnificent Doctor Cullen."

I felt touched at her thoughts, despite Edwards's sarcasm. I scooted forward on my chair so I was perched on the very edge, and I gently grasped her slender hand. "It will be over soon, Esme. I'm so sorry," I breathed.

And so the next day followed in much the same pattern, but by the third day her screams had begun to lapse into silence. It was in these moments that I spoke to her. I told her the stories I'd told Edward. I told her that she was a vampire, and I tried to formulate a reason for my changing her as though there was possible justification for my actions. I'm not sure if she listened, but I tried. At one point, she even spoke back.

"Esme? Can you hear me? It's Carlisle… Doctor Cullen." I murmured, gently brushing her mattered hair from her forehead.

Slowly she moved her head to face me and opened her doe eyes, which still maintained their beautiful brown colour.

"Doctor Cullen? Why are you here?" She croaked with the edge of hysteria I distinctly remembered feeling during my own transformation.

"I found you at the hospital," I told her simply.

She writhed a little as the burning continued, I'm sure.

"The pain, will it stop?" She wondered hopelessly, her voice going up an octave.

I nodded brushing my cold hand against her forehead once more, wishing that my freezing temperature could elevate the burning even just in the slightest. "Yes," I promised, "It will stop. Soon."

"Am I dying?" She asked innocently with those doe eyes of her widening even more.

"No, my dear, you are not dying." I stroked the thumb of my other hand, over hers in what I hoped to be a soothing motion.

"Did you save me?" She breathed in a broken whisper.

I sighed, "I stopped you from dying, Esme, but I have not saved you."

She suddenly groaned and closed her eyes, the pain once again becoming too much. I felt helpless sitting by her bedside, unable to ease the pain, drowning in guilt for being the cause of it all.

Edward shook his head, "She'll never see it like that, you know. She doesn't agree with you, she thinks you saved her."

I gave Edward a tired look, "And I think her opinions will change a great deal by the time we tell her what's actually happened."

"I don't know." Edward gave an offhanded shrug, "She has a very pleasant mind."

Giving Edward a small smile, I noticed the darkness of his eyes, "You're thirsty, perhaps you should hunt, Edward?"

He shook his head, "No. She's almost done. I'll hunt with you both."

I nodded knowing I'd need as much help as I could get. We both looked down at Esme, her wounds had all been fixed and her features enhanced, tell tale signs of the transformation nearing completion.

"Are all female vampires like this? More rounded, less angular?" Edward wondered waving a hand in gesture to her figure.

I replayed a few pictures of female vampires that I had met over the years in my head for him to see and shook my head, "No. I think it's just her."

"From childbirth, maybe?" He wondered. His suggestion was reasonable, so I nodded.

"Perhaps. I do think the recentness of it all would have effected her appearance." And even perhaps her disposition. Pregnancy brought a whole new plethora of hormonal concentrations into the body. I wondered if they would effect her vampiric state.

Edward looked up to me with sad eyes, hearing my thoughts, "For the rest of forever, we stay the same way were when we were changed. When you changed her, she was in mourning, do you think she'll be in mourning forever?"

I looked at him thoughtfully and shook my head, "Mourning is a part of life, Edward, not a part of who we are. I do believe there will come a day when she knows happiness once again."

Edward gave an unconvinced nod, while his eyes betrayed his reluctance to believe me, "You believe, or you hope?"

I gave him a small smile, which I hoped would come off as reassuring. "I do both."

Edward looked back to the woman on the bed, whose screams had once again stopped, and murmured, "The pain is receding."

I nodded, able to hear her accelerated heartbeat, "The transformation is almost complete."

I heard Edward give a tiny sigh.

"What is it, son?" I asked aloud, trying to get into the practise of it after years of silent conversations.

"I find it rather ironic, that we can not change, yet we are stuck in a place that constantly changes, and we have to adapt."

I gave him another nod, "Indeed. It is quite an ironic predicament. Of course, our new addition to the family will change our lives, Edward, but it will not in any way lessen my affection for you. Please understand that now."

Edward nodded, not meeting my eyes, and then I nodded back. Glad our conversation was not a lengthy one, for neither of us were at all proficient in expressing emotion without being completely awkward.

Edward gave a laugh, "Why do I think that will have to change soon?" He almost groaned as he looked to the young beauty that lay on the bed.

She had stopped squirming and screaming completely by then, and she lay unnaturally still, her heart beat rapidly, signalling the very end of the transformation.

I took a deep breath, _Here we go,_ I thought to Edward, who straightened in his seat and shuffled forward. I let go of Esme's hand, and fixed my calm expression on my face. After a few seconds, the room was deadly silent.

Then Esme opened her eyes.

She lay still for a moment and looked above her, perhaps marvelling at the clarity she now saw with, then her brow furrowed in confusion.

I prepared myself for the on coming onslaught of newborn emotion, and surely enough after not even a second of her analysing the world above her, a growl rumbled in her chest. I lifted up an arm, gesturing for Edward to step back in case she pounced, but I think it was the shuffling that startled her most. In a flash, she moved from her position lying on the bed, into a dangerous hunting crouch and another growl shook her chest. Something akin to panic flashed over her face, as her head whipped furiously around the room hopelessly searching for something – a drink, I knew. She sniffed the air, and a small predatorily smile spread across her face. I should have changed her; she was still in the clothes covered in her blood. I could have changed her, I was a doctor after all, the human body was something I was accustomed to, but for some reason, with this young woman, it was different. She continued looking around the room until her eyes landed on my feet. They trailed up my entire body before they landed upon my face. Her crimson eyes bore into mine, and the garish colour was filled with a most curious, fascinated light. She was far more beautiful than any vampire I'd seen whom didn't possess a supernatural gift pertaining to beauty. Her entire face was gentle, from the curved nature of her cheekbones, to her lips that lay in a natural pout, her button nose and her doe eyes. I craved to know if her dimples had survived – they were after all, a defect… but genetic. Should the vampire venom enhance genetics, her dimples would survive, should the vampire venom merely fix everything regardless of genetics, I daresay she would be dimple-free. I hoped fervently that they had survived.

She shared at me for a long time, but I knew her throat had to be burning, so quietly and slowly, so not to startle her, I murmured her name, "Esme?"

She stared at me for a moment longer, and what I would have given to be Edward, seeing inside of her mind.

"Doctor Cullen," she murmured in a smooth voice, reminiscent of her human tone, merely smoother, but still, lower than most vampires… comforting, it was. "Why am I here?" She asked, beginning to grow panicked, "Why am I not dead?" Her voice rose in pitch, as her hand rose up to cup her throat, "And why do I not have a heartbeat?" Her wild eyes were wide, as she nearly wailed, "_And why is my throat burning?_"

Worry filled me as she began to claw at her throat and whine. I wanted to pull her hands away from her neck and calm her down, but I knew approaching her in that state would not have been a wise idea.

"She needs to hunt." Edward stated from beside me, startling the newborn in the room. I readied myself to catch her if she pounced at him, but she surprised me with her fight or flight relaxes causing her to do the latter. She walked back to the wall, and hit it with a soft, surprisingly not doing harm to it, as she eyed Edward with trepidation.

"It's all right, Esme," he soothed in his most gentle voice, "We're not here to hurt you. We're here to help you, my name is Edward." I watched him with interest as he subtly made it known he'd like a chance to do with Esme, what I did with him when he first woke up.

His words seem to shake her out of her fright, but had her thirst not been the forefront of her mind, I daresay she would have attacked.

"We need to take you to hunt, but first, this is important." Edward spoke with great care, emphasising the need for an answer to his question, "Did you listen to what Carlisle – Doctor Cullen – told you while you were burning? All of his stories?"

I wondered briefly if she was still calling me Doctor Cullen in her thoughts, and wished she wouldn't. Clutching her throat, she looked between the both of us before slowly nodding.

"Do you believe him?" Edward wondered curiously. Esme carefully eyed him, formulating a response, but she surprised me by directing her attention my way. I smiled at her, trying to be encouraging, before Edward nodded, "Yes. She believes. All right. We need to hunt."

Edward stepped forward – a mistake – I threw out an arm to stop him as Esme sunk down into a crouch with a hunt.

"Not so quickly, Edward. We have to wait for Esme to make the first move," I warned him quietly before turning back to Esme with a smile, "Esme, I understand your throat is hurting?"

She nodded, her hand reaching back up to her throat.

"Would you like to come with us, to quench your thirst?" I wondered, slowly extending a hand out to her.

She eyed the hand carefully, and then she slowly straightened out of her crouch. She walked to the edge of the bed with caution, eyeing me carefully as I made sure I didn't startle her with any sudden movements.

When she was safely on the floor, she reached her hand out to mine, the air between the two buzzed, and my skin oddly tingled when she placed her small hand into mine. I offered her an encouraging smile, but she could only return a grimace with a whimper.

"Let's go," I murmured quietly, gingerly stepping forward and leading her out of the room. I guided her down the dark, narrow hallway of our home. Edward let out a quiet laugh, probably at something she thought, before Esme pulled me to a harsh stop, nearly accidentally pulling my arm off in the process. I grimaced, but she didn't see, she was focussed on Edward.

"How did you know my answer to your question earlier, when I didn't even say it aloud?" she wondered.

_Best tell her the truth_, I thought to Edward as I resisted the urge to rub my sore arm.

"I can read thoughts, that's just me though. No one else," he replied bluntly.

"Why?" Her words were entirely curious, but just milliseconds later she shook her head, "Never mind. Can we go, please?" She wondered to me.

I smiled and nodded; trying not to let her know my arm was hurting. I moved to walk forward but a thought stopped me in my tracks, "I should tell you though, Esme. We live life a little differently than most. We don't prey on humans, we drink the blood of animals only."

She nodded quickly, perhaps too thirsty to even consider it, but Edward soon laughed and murmured, "You'll see when you smell them."

Esme didn't reply aloud, instead she just watched Edward for a moment as we walked down the stairs, before turning to glance at me. Her eyes were full of fear and sadness, which broke my heart into many little pieces, but in true newborn fashion, her expression changed like a light switch, and soon enough she smiled at me. It was a small smile, but it was a real, genuine smile, that I couldn't help but return.

When we reached the bottom of the stairs I filled the silence with things I thought she should know, "You'll probably have a lot of questions when you've hunted, and your thirst is under control, but we may as well tell you somethings while we walk."

"Like myths," Edward interjected, as we made our way to the kitchen, "And how most of them – burned by the sun, impaled by stakes – all of those things, aren't true. They were made up by the Volturi."

"What is a Volturi?" Esme wondered in a breathy voice, as her hand reached up to her throat once more, her nails digging in to her skin.

Edward grinned, "Like the Kings and Queens of vampire land."

We dashed out the door and down the porch steps, before sprinting across the field.

"I'll run ahead and check that the forest is clear," Edward murmured, before shooting ahead.

I nodded, slowing our pace a little, turning to glance at Esme. There was an element of fear in her eyes, "Don't worry," I murmured, "Hunting is purely instinctual. You'll know what to do when time comes."

She nodded, and smiled at me once again, still clawing at her throat, swallowing whimpers and growls, trying to keep a frenzied light in her eyes at bay, "It won't always be this way," I murmured softly, "Everything will get better."

She nodded again; I stared into her eyes for a moment longer and realised in them was not only apprehension, but also trust. I smiled at her earnestly, and squeezed her hand, a gesture that she returned (a little to strong, admittedly giving me another sore limb), probably not even realising that she was so very brave.

* * *

_A.N. Reviews are most __appreciated. _

_This chapter was updated after completion of Faith &amp; Love. Esme's POV of this chapter can be found in 'Lost Moments of Faith &amp; Love'_


	4. Bitter Truths

_Chapter 4: Bitter Truths_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, __April 1921_

_Edward_

Although I had never been present at any other 'human to vampire' transformation aside from my own, I gathered it was a horrendous and chaotic event. Carlisle kept on marvelling at how serene and calm Esme was, despite the fact she almost attacked us in the beginning, and had nearly crushed Carlisle's hand more times than he'd allow himself to admit, she was yet to sink into a crouch, bare her teeth and inject Carlisle and I with her venom. Which, in Carlisle's mind, and therefore mine, was a very good, and somewhat rare thing.

Her mind, all though teeming with tragedy and sadness, had a distinct loveliness to it, and more than anything she was brave. It was her bravery that Carlisle was marvelling at when we reached the backyard.

"I'll run ahead to check that the forest is clear." I suggested to Carlisle, who nodded and thanked me in his thoughts, all the while keeping his eyes fixated on Esme. I wasn't yet entirely sure as to why he chose her, of all the dying people he'd seen in hospitals before, but judging from his uncharacteristically jumbled thoughts, he thought more of this woman than he was letting on.

As I ran away as fast as I could, Carlisle's soft voice was carried by the air around me, "Don't worry," he murmured to Esme, whose mind was fretting terribly about hunting, "Hunting is purely instinctual. You'll know what to do when the time comes. It won't always be this way, everything will het better."

While she wondered to herself exactly how she would be hunting the poor little animals, I suppressed a snigger at the good doctor having to explain jumping on animals, and digging her teeth into their necks to a woman who was so much of a lady as Esme was.

as I ran the perimeter of the forest, I detected no lingering scents of human, but I did find a large herd of deer. I attacked one quickly, knowing I'd need as much strength as I could muster should Esme require restraining. Then, with all my speed, I made my way back to Carlisle and Esme. I heard their thoughts first; Esme's filled with apprehension and dread, Carlisle's filled with worry.

"It's all clear," I murmured as I came within hearing range, and stopped running before I reached them.

"Thank you, Edward." Carlisle murmured back in reply as their footsteps began forward toward me, "Now, just start running and the rest will be easy, alright?"

I saw Esme's frightened face nod through Carlisle's eyes, as her hand tightened in his grasp. _She won't let go of my hand?_ He thought with slight surprise and surprising delight,_ Alright, this will be something new to try._

Feeling my brow knit together, I shook my head in amusement then ran back towards the deer.

Esme did well for her first hunt. Of course she was covered in blood by the end of it, but her clothes weren't as ripped as mine had been the night I hunted as a first. It was an utter disaster to be honest, and I think I attacked Carlisle more than I attacked any animal. I apologised though, a few years later.

Esme was mortified by the indecency she had caused herself. I didn't want to mention it, so I didn't reassure her that it wasn't so bad. Carlisle complemented her profusely, as Carlisle always did anyone, which embarrassed her even more. She stubbornly believed she had made a terrible job of it, I realised then I should have made a mess of it also, to avoid her dismay.

Ah, hindsight.

As we ran back to the house Carlisle told her more about our kind, and she took it unbelievably well. Of course, it frightened her and would have overwhelmed her, but the presence of her favourite doctor had made it all bearable.

Sometimes, out of shock she'd freeze for a few moments, or when she was feeling particularly afraid she'd grasp Carlisle's hand so tight his thoughts would be filled with pain, but he'd never let her know.

When she was trying to remember her first meeting with him in greater detail than she could (it frustrated her that the memory was so hazy), I took that as my sign to be of use, "Our memories of while we were human aren't as clear as those we have of our life now, and over the years they begin to fade. If there's anything in particular that you want to remember, think about it as often as you can."

Esme nodded, her mind shot to a picture of a baby, her son, then to Carlisle's face as her bent over her leg, his cold hands making her shudder, his lips a warm smile.

"I don't remember much already, as it is," she murmured, her voice echoed the expression upon her face, sounding sad.

"I recognise those memories as the ones you focussed on most during your change," I told her, as we darted through trees, her hand still tightly in Carlisle's "That's why they come easier than others. We know a little about your human life, we could tell you if you'd like, in attempt to trigger those memories?"

Esme nodded eagerly, a small smile formed across her face.

"You were a schoolteacher," I prompted, then a memory of a group of young children played in her mind, she smiled wider and nodded for me to continue, "You lived in a home for widows." Her mind flashed to a picture of a kind woman's face through an open door, and she nodded again.

"You fell out of a tree when you were sixteen," Carlisle grinned, to which Esme laughed and said, "I haven't forgotten that one."

Carlisle was delighted. I couldn't help but let out a laugh at the sight of the pair of them, "But that's about all we know, obviously you had a husband, but he died in the war."

But it was then that things began to get interesting. Esme's mind flashed to a dim, and dark memory, of two unhappy brown eyes, then abruptly, all light faded from her face and she froze. I ran straight passed her, before skidding to a halt and running back. Her sudden stop and newborn strength had caused poor Carlisle to skid, and slide along the ground, his hand still grasped tightly in hers. When I arrived back to them, Esme was still standing in her state-like state, and Carlisle was looking at her worriedly, with mud covering the knees of his trousers.

My brow furrowed, "Esme?"

I looked to Carlisle in confusion, his expression mirrored mine.

He placed his free hand gently on her shoulder, "Esme?"

She didn't reply. Her mind was blank, which disturbed me. Something about it made me think she was desperately trying not to remember something; quite possibly something she didn't want me to know.

"Esme, are you alright?" Carlisle voice was calm but worried.

Whole seconds had passed since she had frozen, and still no thoughts had crossed her mind.

"Edward, what is she thinking?" Carlisle asked, his voice edging on frantic.

"Nothing," I shook my head, feeling slightly dumbfounded, "She's not thinking anything."

"Nothing at all?" He was becoming very panicked by then, which was rather out of character for the calm and collected doctor. His frantic eyes searched hers, as his gentle hand brushed away her messy hair from her face.

"Nothing at all." I confirmed, "Is that possible? All I saw before she froze was darkness and a pair of eyes."

Suddenly, Esme came back to life, and her head whipped to me, her gaze was questioning, and somewhat disappointed, _You saw that? _She wondered.

I nodded, as her mind came alight with pure panic. I worried she would lose herself in a newborn fit, and hurt Carlisle. I had half a mind to tell hi to step back, then again, I didn't want her to think we were frightened of her. That was sure to cause her more confusion.

_Oh, God._

My brow furrowed, "What is it?" I wondered.

She looked mortified, _Nothing you have to know._

We stared at each other for a few moments, Carlisle growing more impatient as they passed. I gave her a curt nod, wondering how long she could keep whatever secret it was from me.

"Esme, are you alright?" Carlisle whispered, his voice hoarse.

She turned to look at him, surprised at his tone, and then her face melted into a cool mask of composure, her eyes filled with tenderness, "I am. I apologise for frightening you both."

Carlisle wasn't convinced, nor was I, but we let the matter drop.

My mind was reeling. What was that memory she didn't want me to see? Who did those eyes belong to? Why did she keep chiding herself for making a scene? And why did she keep biting back questions, after reminding herself that she was a woman? It made utterly no sense to me.

I was completely baffled by it. Until she let it slip. It was my fault really.

We were almost back at the house – somehow our hunting trip had led us further afield than we expected, so it took longer to make our return – when I told her how Carlisle had found me, knowing it would get the reaction I wanted.

"I was seventeen when the Spanish Influenza hit Chicago. My mother and father both came down with it and I followed not long after. My father died first, but my mother fought it for a while, long enough for her to demand that Carlisle save me in any way he could. So he complied. I've lived with Carlisle ever since, he's like a father to me, by biological father was distant at best, so it was nice to have a paternal figure."

She smiled as her thoughts flashed to her son during my story, and then before she could stop herself she visualised the man she had called a husband. But her and I both loosely applied that word to the monster.

Her memory wasn't a pleasant one, but everything made sense after that. It was me who froze that time. Carlisle turned around in surprise. Esme began to cry... It was a disaster. I got a hold of myself quickly, but Esme's sobs wracked her whole body so it convulsed. Carlisle wrapped her in his arms and rubbed her back soothingly, a gesture she greatly appreciated through the waves of grief. I dropped my eyes to the ground in shame, chiding myself for manipulating the memories out of her. Of course there was a reason she kept them hidden, and it was selfish of me to think that it was only so I wouldn't know. The truth is, she really didn't want to remember the monster who beat her when and where she should have been safe.

Anger and pity coursed through my veins in such potency I hadn't experienced since my own newborn year.

We were standing still in the forest by then, Esme's body still convulsing with sobs.

"Esme," I whispered, "I am so sorry."

She shook her head against Carlisle's chest. His mind was racing wondering what was going on. Her mind was full of apologies intended for me.

"Please don't apologise to me." I whimpered.

_I have to. I shouldn't have thought those things. I'm so sorry Edward._

Her mind raced back to a memory of the only other time she had ever let anyone know of her husband's abuse. Her mother and father stared disapprovingly at her as she stumbled over the words, trying to hold back the tears. They wanted nothing of it. They told her to be a better wife.

I felt sick.

"Well, at least he's dead," I murmured without thinking.

Carlisle shot me an alarmed glance, _What could be so bad to make you say that, Edward? _

I payed little attention to his question, for all I heard was two simple words in Esme's thoughts.

_He's not._

* * *

_A.N. Well that took a morbid turn there that even I wasn't expecting. Looking at the timeline in the _Official Illustrated Guide _I noted that Carlisle and Esme got married in 1921, so it obviously didn't take long for them to fall in love, that being said I believe the truth about her husband would have come out rather quickly, and she would have spent her first newborn months really getting over the psychological damages of an abusive relationship, but who better to help that Carlisle and Edward?_

Again, review if you have a moment or two!

_Thank you!_


	5. Not Out of Fear

_Chapter 5: Not Out of Fear_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, April 1921_

_Esme_

I dipped my toes into the steamy water that felt blissfully delightful on my ice skin.

Sighing, I quickly submerged every single part of my body as my mind replayed the events of the evening.

* * *

My parents had always possessed a way to make me believe their every word even when I didn't want to. I often told myself that I didn't believe them, but I knew deep down inside that that was a lie, because I couldn't even speak as I stood there in the middle of the forest, clutching to the shirt of a man I barely knew as his son apologised to me for my own thoughts.

"Well at least he's dead," Edward had murmured.

I had felt Carlisle tense beneath me, and I tried my best not to let the sobbing get any worse, despite not knowing if it could.

All I could think to Edward was the truth.

_He's not._

_I lied._

_I'm not a war-widow._

I had then heard Edward growl.

That was the moment I realised that despite my best efforts of lying to myself, I had always let my parents convince me that their words were the truth, because I mistakenly took Edward's growl as a sign of anger towards me. I thought he was irate because I had run away, but his very next words proved me wrong.

"You're parents were wrong, Esme," Edward spoke through gritted teeth, "_They_ _were wrong._"

"Edward," I heard Carlisle chide, and then I sobbed even harder.

I cried because the doctor had to have been confused. I cried because he probably felt like I was leaving him out when really, as head of the house, he deserved to know most of all. I cried because I had to tell him, and it would tarnish the way he saw me. And I cried because I clung onto him like a child clung to its mother. And then I cried more because I couldn't stop crying.

Carlisle rubbed my back as though he didn't mind my excessive outburst of emotion.

"It's the newborn stage," Edward murmured, as if trying to explain this was normal.

"It _is_ normal." He confirmed to my thoughts.

Then I cried even more out of frustration, because the poor boy had to read my mind.

The grief leeched on to me and it wouldn't let go, it pulled me under its waves by my legs, and I struggled to swim to the surface, knowing I was never going to make it. It was like drowning in the fire all over again, but drowning in air instead.

Carlisle stopped rubbing my back and I panicked, but he didn't let his hands leave my body. Instead he stepped back and his hands found a place at either side of my face then he bent down to look me in the eye.

His eyes had always been a beautiful shade of gold. Like the caring heart I knew he possessed.

"Shh, Esme. You're okay. You're here with us now, and you're okay. You're safe."

I panicked again, and wondered if somehow he'd guessed the truth about Charles, or he could read minds too and he didn't tell me.

"He can't read your mind," Edward murmured from the distance, which only felt far away because Carlisle's face was so near.

The doctor smiled a small, sad smile, and I knew right then that he wished he had Edward's gift, and I wanted to tell him what he wanted to know, I just didn't know how. How much had he already guessed?

Out the corner of my eye, I saw Edward give a shrug, "Most of it."

He was feigning indifference and I knew it, for my benefit perhaps?

Right then his mask came off and his eyes were a blaze of anger. I tried not to let them bring back any memories of Charles' anger, and I understood why Edward hid it from me.

"He deserves to rot in hell," Edward grumbled.

I didn't move my eyes from Carlisle's face.

His thumb stroked my cheek as I sobbed.

"Esme, my sweet, you're safe."

I so loved the way he said my name.

I nodded, the sobs still bubbling in my throat as he gave me a weak smile, and then wrapped me in his arms once again. My own arms reflexively wrapped around his torso and the sobs wracked my body with full force.

How long will this last? I wondered hopelessly, these endless intense emotions!

"You won't be a newborn any longer than a year, after that you won't feel as strongly, or be as physically strong as you are right now." Edward murmured.

_Physically strong?_

"Yes, you're stronger than the both of us right now."

I couldn't believe it, for I was a woman, and they were both men.

"So, uh, you might want to loosen your grip on Carlisle, there…" Edward trailed off.

I was mortified.

I dropped my arms immediately.

Carlisle let out a shaky laugh, "It doesn't bother me in the slightest," but he loosened his own grip and stepped back to look at my face.

My body still hiccupped with sobs, as I tried not to look him in the eye.

"Would you like to head home now, Esme? Or would you prefer to stay here a little longer?"

I took in a ragged breath, "Home," I murmured, "Please."

He smiled and nodded, then pulled me in for another hug before he dropped his hold on my body in favour for a hold on my hand.

How wondrous it was that he wouldn't let go. I knew, rationally, that he was only doing it as a comforting gesture, but memories of daydreams I treasured in my life came flooding back to me.

I felt an inward burning when I realised that Edward was now aware of my childhood crush, but to his credit, he pretended as though he didn't know.

I could already tell that he had a good heart, that boy.

I heard him sigh and looked to the side, he didn't turn to face me, but his lips formed a small smile.

I took that as a thank you, and he nodded I was right.

My breathing was still shaky, and it caught in my throat every once in a while, my throat that still dimply burned. Every time I felt my breath hitch, Doctor Cullen squeezed my hand, as if to remind me that everything would be okay, because he was there. I took comfort in that.

It didn't take long to reach the old house, which I good a good look at for the very first time, in the rising morning light. It was definitely old, made of dark wooded weatherboard, which almost looked back. It had a porch that wrapped around the entire ground floor, and the back garden was a sparse field of grass. Edward led us up the porch steps, and through – what I assumed to be – the back door, which lead into the small kitchen.

"I can give you a tour of the house, if you'd like, but perhaps you'd rather take a bath?"

My mood brightened at the prospect of bathing. I nodded gratefully, to which Carlisle smiled.

He led me through to the narrow hallway, he gestured to the left, "Through the washroom down there is the smaller bathroom, which Edward is using, he has class today, at the local college, so you can use the upstairs one."

"Remember," murmured Edward's voice from the direction of the washroom, "You're very strong and will probably break things, so be as gentle as you can be."

Carlisle turned right and we walked besides the staircase, hand in hand.

I nodded quietly, saving Edward's words to memory, "Do you have work today?" I asked Carlisle.

He shook his head, "I work night shifts, but I have the flu at the moment."

I looked at him quizzically, but he just smiled back at me. His smile held almost a proud edge to it.

"I do doubt you could ever sound ill on the telephone, Doctor."

He let out a laugh, "It's the very first time I have called in sick since working in Ashland, and it would look suspicious if I never fell ill. People might begin to think I'm not fully human."

I let out a laugh, despite by melancholy mood, and Carlisle looked proud that he managed to make me giggle.

We embarked the stairs; he didn't let go of my hand as he took the lead, for the stairs weren't wide enough for us to walk side-by-side.

At the top of the stairs, Carlisle walked toward the door that was directly in front of us, he opened it and led me through. He dropped my hand and opened up cupboard to the left, then he grabbed out two towels.

"Here you go," he smiled as I grabbed them and murmured my thanks, "You're most welcome."

He reached into the cupboard and grabbed out, what looked to be linen, before he turned completely to face me, small smile playing on his lips.

He tilted his head to the side as I stared at him, signalling the big bath sitting in the middle of the room.

That was when I realised I was standing in the doorway, blocking his exit.

"Oh, sorry," I mumbled as I moved out of the way.

He let out a small, low, laugh, "Enjoy."

Then he took his leave, softly shutting the door behind him.

I let out a deep breath, trying my best to calm my strange and powerful emotions. I flicked the lock on the door, more out of habit than anything else, and put the towels beside the bath as I turned on the hot faucet and then began to peel the bloody clothing from my body, trying to be less aware that Edward could see everything that I was seeing, although I knew he most likely didn't want to.

I dipped my toes into the steamy water that felt blissfully delightful on my ice skin.

* * *

The bath was lovely.

I stayed soaking in it until the water had succumbed to taking on the chill of my icy skin. I reached for one of the fluffy towels that Carlisle had given me, and sighed when I caught sight of the bloody clothes on the floor.

"Uhhh, clothes, Carlisle." I heard Edward murmur from downstairs.

I listened as footsteps raced up the stairs and a door opened to my right. Then there was the sound of drawers opening and closing, as well as the ruffle of fabric.

The gentle footsteps that I recognised as Carlisle's stopped outside the bathroom door.

"Esme?" He murmured.

"Yes?" I replied.

"I'll put some fresh clothes by the door for you. Sorry I don't have anything else, I'll have Edward find some today. We'll be downstairs if you'd like to join us afterward, then I can show you around?"

I smiled, "Thank you."

I heard the smile in his voice when he replied through the door, "You're most welcome."

Then I listened as his quiet footsteps made their way down the stairs.

Slowly I rose out of the water, and tucked one of the two towels around my body, the other in my hair.

Quietly I crept over to the door and pried it open. I knew what to expect on the other side, but I still felt embarrassed when I saw the men's clothes on the floor outside the bathroom.

Nausea hit my stomach like a wild summer storm, the thunder coming in waves of mortification. I took a deep breath as I swiped them inside, and examined the Doctor's humble offering.

There was a light blue work shirt, and a pair of trousers. I had never worn trousers in my life.

I turned around to look at the pile of bloody clothes on the floor by the bath, and then crawled over to see if my chemise was in any acceptable state.

Lord have mercy on Heaven above, it was.

Relief flooded through me as strong as the nausea had done.

I stood up and climbed into it. My stockings were in tatters, so there was no hope in wearing them and every other item of clothing smelt strongly of deer, and something else, something much sweeter.

A hazy kind of delight flooded through my senses as my eyes clouded over, the smell was so heavenly.

"Esme," came a firm and unhappy voice from below, "Just put on the clothes and come down stairs now, please."

I recognised the voice as Edward's, not because I could distinguish the tone in my hazy state, but because Carlisle would never speak to me like a naughty child.

I couldn't pay attention to Edward, the smell was so glorious, I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed it before.

"Esme," the reapproving tone struck again, "If you don't hold your breath, get dressed and come downstairs, one of us will come up and get you."

That shook me awake.

The thought of Carlisle seeing me in my underwear was completely humiliating.

Edward knew that.

So I did what he said and I held my breath, reaching for Carlisle's shirt and pants. I had to roll the legs of the trousers and the sleeves of the shirt up a few times, for Carlisle was much taller than I. I didn't dare look in the mirror, I was sure to look hideous, and terribly unladylike, but a part of me reasoned that Carlisle and Edward would very much understand.

I looked to the pile of bloodied clothes once again, wondering what to do with them.

"Just leave them there," murmured Edward, "We'll take care of them."

_Take care of them? _I wondered.

"They're covered in your blood. That's what smells so delectable. We need to burn them."

It started to make sense in my head then. The hazy feeling I experienced before was bloodlust. What a terribly appealing scent. A terribly appealing idea.

"Esme," Edward's voice warned.

I shook my head, trying to dispel the thoughts, and then bolted out of the room. Taking the door with me.

_Oh no._

I stared at the door I now held by the doorhandle in my hand. I was petrified.

I heard Carlisle nearing closer.

Nausea hit my stomach once again, but this time with dread.

He stood at the bottom of the stairs, his hands up in surrender, his eyes cautious but a small, warm smile on his lips.

"It's okay. I can fix the door. I've done it many-a-time before. It's alright."

He spoke very slowly, every word was overly cautious. I noticed Edward standing behind him. Eyeing me carefully.

Was he scrutinizing my clothes?

Edward grinned, and slowly I put the door down on the ground to show I was not the threat they thought I was.

"It's not you," Edward murmured, "It's the newborn."

I cocked a brow in confusion, "The newborn _is_ me."

Edward shook his head and grinned, "The newborn is never who you truly are."

I didn't like his mysterious words. Nor did Carlisle apparently; for he shot Edward a reproachful glare then slowly embarked the stairs.

He crouched down to examine the door at my feet, "Well, at least it's just the hinges." He grinned up at me.

If I were human, my face would be bright red. I smiled back, none-the-less.

He picked up the door and placed in next to the doorway.

"Come downstairs, Esme," offered Edward, "I'll start showing you around."

I nodded to Edward, and then smiled to Carlisle as I climbed down the stairs.

Edward led me back down toward the kitchen, "Well you know where the kitchen is, obviously, and you also know that we don't use it, we don't have much use for the dining room either, that's the closest one on this side to the door," he led me into the washroom, "This is where we don't do the laundry because we pay some lady in town to do it, and the smaller bathroom is in there," Edward gestured through the small door to the small room that was filling with light from the cloud covered, rising sun.

"I can do laundry," I murmured to Edward, "Perhaps when I don't break things as much, I could do it for you both? As a way to pay my keep?"

Edward grinned down at me, "Esme, you're an intelligent woman, but you should know here, and now, that there is no way we are ever going to make you earn your keep. Your keep is earned by your being here. You are not our maid, you are our friend."

I felt touched at Edward's words, "Thank you, Edward," I murmured, "But still, if you ever need a new laundry lady, you know where I'll be."

Edward grinned, "Right here in the washroom."

That's where we shared our very first laugh. Right there in the washroom.

"Come on, back down the hallway we go."

Edward led me back to the foot of the stairs, he gestured to the first room on the left of the stairs, "The famous, unused dining room."

I grinned and nodded, he led me through the open door to the left of the stairs.

"The sitting room," he announced, and Carlisle appeared through the door to the left.

"And Carlisle has emerged from his cave, also known as the study or library, whichever you prefer."

I smiled at him, and he grinned back.

"That's my piano," Edward pointed out.

The excited tone of voice he used betrayed his real age for the very first time; I had to tear my eyes away from Carlisle's to see what had Edward so proud.

My eyes fell upon a beautiful grand piano, which gleamed in the muted sunlight that poured through the windows.

"It's beautiful," I murmured, "You enjoy playing very much?"

Edward nodded vigorously, "Very, very much. It is the only thing that keeps my sanity in tact."

"Then I hate to say it son," Carlisle said with a mischievous tone to his beautiful bass, "It is not doing a very good job."

I couldn't help the giggle that escaped my lips at Carlisle's teasing, and then I looked up to Edward to gauge his reaction, he merely looked surprised.

I gathered Carlisle didn't tease him very often.

"No, he doesn't," Edward murmured in conformation to my thoughts.

I heard Carlisle sigh, and then I caught his eye, "Well since Edward has been able to gloat about his favourite thing in this house, would you like to see mine?"

I nodded eagerly, to which he grinned and beckoned me forward.

I went to him without a second thought, and I heard Edward follow closely behind me.

Carlisle's study was a beautiful place. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with spines of all different colours and sizes. There was a desk to the right of the room, in front of the small windows, and to the left there was a small lounge. Other than that, and the contents of Carlisle's desk, the room's only inhabitants were those who lived in-between the covers.

"Admittedly, most of the books are medical texts, but I do have some others in here also."

I looked around in awe, "It's beautiful."

Carlisle grinned, "I thought you'd like it. One never really loses their love of literature."

I looked up to him in surprise, "I said that."

He grinned down at me, "I remember."

I felt oddly hot all over, but it wasn't a bad hot, an embarrassed hot or a 'I'm Being Turned Into A Vampire' hot, it was a nice kind of hot. A new kind of hot.

I didn't know what it was.

"Okay," sand Edward, "Would you like to see upstairs now? Come along then." He grabbed my arm and pulled me upstairs.

I wondered what caused his sudden excitement to show me the rest of the house.

"Well you know where the bathroom is, and oh look, the door has been fixed already. Carlisle's room is the first door to the left, mine is the second. Your room is the first door to the right and the spare room that we haven't found a use for is the second door to the right. You've seen your room already, of course, but do you want to have another look anyway? Carlisle has already changed the sheets, so it shouldn't smell too much like a human."

Edward guided me to the first door on the right hand side of the stairs, and then turned the knob and let me in.

"I'll let you get comfortable, just think if you need anything." He grinned.

I nodded, somewhat confused by his sudden mood swing, but entered into the room anyway. He shut the door behind me.

The room contained a four-poster bed, a dresser and a window. Like the rest of the house, the floorboards were a dark wood and the walls were wallpapered. In this room they were a light shade of grey, with a pink flower pattern.

I walked over to the window, and gingerly reached out to draw back the light pink curtains. They ripped under my grasp.

I sighed with chagrin.

There was a quiet knock on the door, "Esme? It's Carlisle."

I turned around quickly and gently opened the door.

He smiled down at me, "Is your room alright?"

I nodded, "Although I haven't mastered the strength yet, this door seemed to survive my wrath, but unfortunately the curtains didn't make it."

He looked over my shoulder to the ripped curtains, and laughed, "No matter. These things happen. We don't really need curtains anyway."

I smiled feeling slightly bashful as he leaned against the doorframe and the beautiful sound of the piano wafted up the stairs, "Edward has decided not to go into town today, so I will be going instead."

I raised an eyebrow, "What bout your flu?"

"What about my flu, indeed." Carlisle looked pointedly at the floor in the direction of the music.

"It isn't the floor's fault," came Edward's voice.

Carlisle ran his hand through his hair, wisps of which fell lazily on his face, as he shook his head with a small smile on his lips, "I shouldn't be gone too long. I'll stop by the dress shop, but, I…uh… well I don't really know anything about women's clothing, I was planning to just ask the shop attendants to pick out some things for me. Will that be alright?"

I nodded, "Please, if there is anyway I can repay you, pray tell."

Carlisle smiled a warm, and almost loving smile, "As Edward noted earlier, you merely being here is payment enough."

I lowered my eyes to the ground in disappointment.

"Truthfully Esme, I ask for nothing in return."

I looked up at him through my lashes with doubtful eyes.

I heard him gulp.

I looked up properly then, and gave him a small smile, which he bashfully returned. "Thank you, Carlisle."

His grin widened in such a boyish way, it betrayed his young age.

"I came up to ask if there is anything else you would like… You see, not sleeping tends to leave us with an extraordinary amount of time on our hands. I have my books, and Edward, his piano, is there anything that you would like from town to make the hours pass easier?"

I considered it for a moment, trying to remember hobbies of my human life, but my search came up empty. I gave my head a slight shake.

"No favourite authors that you can think of?"

I strained my memory, "No, sorry."

Carlisle grinned, "Then I suppose it'll be a case of trial and error."

I raised an eyebrow in question, but he ignored it, "I'll pick you up some fashion magazines so you can pick out some more clothes that you like."

"Thank you," I gave him an earnest smile, which he eagerly returned.

"My pleasure," he straightened up, "I'll see you soon then."

I nodded.

"Oh, don't be afraid to have a look through the books downstairs while I'm away. You're welcome to read any that you like."

I nodded and said "Thank you," again.

He grinned, "I best be off. I shouldn't be too long."

I heard him grab the car keys from his pocket.

"Drive safe," I murmured before realising how daft it probably sounded, but he smiled and nodded, "I will."

When he left the room I wandered over to the window, wondering where they kept the car, and marvelling at how they seemed pleased to have me here with them. It baffled me how they seemed to want me in their house, and I knew that I wanted to be there, but for the first time in my life it was not out of fear, it was because I felt safe.

I reached the window then, and my good mood suddenly faded when I caught sight of my reflection in the window.

"Oh, no." Edward murmured.

I let out a hiss.

Carlisle was in front of me in an instant, holding my face in his hands, his expression one of great concern.

"We forgot to mention the eyes," Edward murmured from the doorway.

"You _forgot_ to mention the eyes," I repeated incredulously in a hiss, "I struggle to see quite how that is possible. How could you forget to tell me that my eyes are a monstrous shade of RED!?"

* * *

_A.N. That was a long chapter for you today! I hope you enjoyed! Thank you to my reviewers so far, your thoughts are always appreciated.  
_


	6. Familiarity (Part 1)

_Chapter Six: Familiarity_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, April 1921_

_Carlisle_

Her hiss rang like a bell in the room.

"Carlisle," Edward warned, "Too close. She's a newborn, remember?"

"And what do you mean by that, Edward?" Esme's tone was livid.

Edward began to reply, but I cut him off.

Speaking in a low whisper, I tried to soothe her, "After a few more hunts your eye colour will calm a little, the more animal blood you drink, the more golden your eyes will become. In a short few months, they'll be exactly the same shade as mine."

My eyes were only inches away from hers at that point; her scarlet orbs pierced my soul.

"Yours?" she murmured, her voice low with a frantic edge to it.

I nodded, "Mine."

Then she collapsed into my arms in uncontrollable sobs.

I looked to Edward, _And you still won't go into town for me?_

Edward shook his head and then departed once again for the piano.

"I'm sorry…" Esme sobbed, "I don't mean to… be crying all the… time… or angry… I… I don't want to be… angry… I don't know… what's happening… it's worse than when… than when I was pregnant… oh! ... Oh, my son… my poor little baby… he's gone… I…"

"Shhh, it's okay," I murmured encircling her properly in my arms, "Everything is going to be alright."

As she sobbed I rubbed my hands softly up and down her back, in a motion I had seen many times to give comfort, and I realised that she had probably never known comfort such as that before.

I tried to dismiss the irrational anger that raged in my veins, and instead I focussed on her.

Her hands shifted from my chest to my back as she encircled my body in her arms. Her small head fell forward to rest of my chest as sobs caught in her throat.

"You'll get a handle on the emotions soon, sweetheart," I cooed, inwardly cringing at the term of endearment as it slipped out of my mouth without permission, "And I promise you'll feel better."

She nodded her head against my chest and I thought the sobs were receding. But I was wrong.

Her nodding quickly turned to shaking her head and the sobs increased.

"Esme?" I murmured, my voice betraying my worry.

"I just… I can't bear to think what you think of me now!"

I sighed and held her tighter, "Darling Esme," I murmured, "We only think good things of you and your sweet soul."

She murmured something about the cliff, and I felt it my time to share a secret I kept.

"Not long after I discovered what I was, I too jumped off of a cliff, it however, did not achieve the desired result. I couldn't judge you, Esme, for making a decision that I too, have made."

Her sobs began to soften again.

"I'm glad it didn't work, Carlisle." She breathed.

I wasn't sure if she was addressing her suicide attempt or mine, but I said, "Me too," anyway, because it was true for both, and then without thinking I pressed my lips to her hair.

To my surprise, and her credit, she did not stiffen. Instead, her sobs eased even more.

I rubbed her back for a final time, and then stepped back to look at her face.

She still looked very upset, but it was the most beautiful upset face I'd ever seen.

I gave her a small smile, "Now, I know it's probably the last thing you would like to do, but I do think you should come and look in the mirror before I leave."

She surprised me by nodding, so I reached for her hand, which she eagerly placed in my own. I turned toward the door, and started for the bathroom.

"You know, I am rather surprised that you didn't look in the mirror before."

She smiled shyly, "I didn't want to see myself covered in blood, or…"

I raised an eyebrow as she trailed off, "Or?" I prompted.

She laughed bashfully, "I've never worn men's clothing before. My mother would have had a heart attack if she ever knew."

"Oh," I looked to my feet, "Yes, I do apologise for that."

"It's alright," Esme's sweet voice murmured, "I must say though, I envy you in the winter, but pity you in the summer for these trousers. They're very warm, but skirts are far more comfortable in the heat."

I grinned, "I must agree, I found myself in Scottish traditional dress once, and I have envy women in the summer months since then."

"Although it doesn't impact us much," she whispered.

I agreed as I opened the door to the bathroom once again. I led her to the large mirror that hung on the wall.

I knew the sight of her red eyes would distress her again, but I hoped the rest of her appearance would calm her.

I stood behind her as she peered into the glass.

She gasped quietly as she saw the beautiful creature in the reflection. I knew in that moment, her eyes didn't bother her too much, for the beauty she possessed would strike even a modest person, and she was a modest person, if ever I knew one.

Her skin was bone pale, hard and smooth, there was not a single imperfection on her face. Her hair billowed down her shoulders in soft curls, it was shiny, an almost unnatural shade of caramel brown, but not as violent a colour as Edward's or mine. In fact, everything about her seemed almost un-vampire like. Her hair not being as unnatural, her bones not being as angular, her eyes not being as menacing, of course the colour was, but there was something about their large shape that made the redness seem innocent. She looked far more human than Edward or I, which made her even the more special to me.

She was beautiful.

"Is that me?" She asked as her hand rested upon her cheek.

I smiled and nodded from behind.

"It doesn't look like me," she almost sounded disheartened.

"Of course you still look like you," I murmured stepping forward.

I placed a finger on the mirror, "You still have brown hair, your eyes are still shaped like hazelnuts, your button nose is still a little button, your lips are still your lips, and I know for a fact you still have those dimples in the sides of your cheeks."

I grinned at the girl in the glass, and she smiled shyly back, sure enough, her dimples pinched her cheeks.

"See? You're still you. Just paler."

She let out a singular laugh, "With red eyes."

I gave a shrug, "For the time being."

She sighed, "I am sorry for my melodramatic ways."

I grinned, "At least you haven't thrown a tree at me yet."

Her brow furrowed in confusion, "Why would I do that?"

I shook my head, "I don't think you would, but Edward did."

Her mouth fell into a perfect 'O,' "Edward," she chided in a whisper.

He laughed over the composition he played.

"What did I tell you?" he murmured, loud enough for us to hear, "It's normal for newborns."

Esme looked slightly relieved at the revelation, so I took that as my moment to leave, knowing the sooner I left, the sooner I could come back.

Esme bode me farewell once again, and this time I made it out the door without hearing her feline hiss.

It was a short way from our house on the outskirts, into the center of town, and I usually kept to the recommended speed, but on that day I went as fast as I could.

Vampires love speed.

I inwardly groaned at the thought of having to enter a woman's clothing shop and ask the store keeper to pick out some clothes, for I knew it would have the town talking for weeks. I decided that Esme would be Edward cousin, and a niece of mine, so the gossip would not be quite so wild.

I pulled up along the side of the street and made my way down to the only dress shop in town.

It was owned and operated my a middle aged woman named Mable Fortendue, she and her husband also owned the shoemaker's next door. Their two daughters, Hazel and Mary both worked weekdays as shop assistants. Like most young females... like most female's in general, the girls found Edward's and my beauty irresistible, so I sent a quick prayer to Heaven above, that neither Hazel nor Mary would serve me today.

A little bell tinkled as I opened the door. Mrs. Fortendue came waddling to see who it was.

I sighed in relief and thanked the Lord.

"Doctor Cullen!" She exclaimed in surprise, her short arms rising in the air, "Such a lovely surprise!"

Mable Fortendue was a short, plump woman, who was enthused by all whom she met, I was no exception, in fact, I was the special exaggeration. "I didn't see you go off to work last night, my dear."

"No, Mrs. Fortendue, I was home with the flu. I wouldn't be out at all tody, but you see, my young orphaned niece has come to stay with Edward and I but the poor girl lost her suitcase on the train, and young Edward was positively frightened at the thought of women's clothing. So that only left me to come in and purchase some garments for her."

"Oh you do look pale dear."

_No more pale than usual, Mrs. Fortendu_e_, _"Yes, I don't feel at all well. Perhaps you could pick out somethings for me while I pop to the post office and bookstore?" I asked sweetly.

"Oh, well of course Doctor Cullen! Just dresses and … the other things she will need?"

I nodded awkwardly and thanked her, hoping to take my leave before one of two things happened. Either her daughters appeared, or the conversation became even more unbearable.

Unfortunately for me, I hadn't moved quick enough to avoid the latter.

"But Doctor!" she called, "First you'll have to give me an idea of her size. I take it you know not her measurements?"

Awkwardness coursed through my veins and I heard faint giggles from the back room, "No. I'm afraid I do not."

Mrs. Fortendue nodded with a small smile, "Well is she big, or small, or in-between?"

"Small, I'd say."

"Well of course you would, look at how tall you are! Anything would be small to you! How high, would you say, on estimate?"

I put my hand beneath my chin, "About up to here. Five foot six, I would say."

She nodded, "How thin?"

"Quite," I murmured, the giggling grew.

"Oh shush girls," I heard Mr. Fortendue whisper.

She grinned, "Give me an estimate with your hands, you bashful boy. C'mon, now, don't be shy."

I wasn't shy, merely mortified as I held my hands a short width apart.

"Ah, so she _is_ small. And her figure?" she asked inquisitively.

I blinked in confusion at her stare, "Her figure?" I croaked, in what would sound to them just the same as my voice usually would.

"Is she curvy, or straight, dumpy or broad shouldered? Bigger top? Bigger bottom? Not much of a waist? Or perfect all over?"

I cleared my throat, the giggling in the back room grew unbearably loud, "I'd say the same on the top as the bottom with a small waist."

Suddenly the giggling stopped, and Mrs. Fortendue let out a breath in such a way it sounded annoyed, "Perfect all over then," she muttered low enough no other human could hear, "Okay, I'll pick out some things for her. How much would you like?"

"As much as she'll need."

Mrs. Fortendue grinned, "You're a good uncle, Doctor."

I smiled and thanked her, before promising I'd be back soon to pay for and take the clothes. When I was out of that horrid little store, I breathed a big gulp of fresh air, and sighed, glad that was all over.

I went to the post shop next, picking up Edward and my monthly subscriptions, and picking out a few magazines for Esme. The shop attendant gave me a quizzical look as I handed them over for purchase, but I decided to ignore him, let him wonder, I thought.

I stopped by the bookstore on my way back to Mrs. Fortendue's and tried to decide on a book to bring home to Esme.

I saw the perfect book almost immediately, and as I felt the soft leather come into contact with my skin, I felt the memory of our first meeting come flooding back to me.

* * *

_A.N. Yay next chapter we see how our beloved couple met! I hope you're all enjoying it so far. I thought I'd make this chapter a little shorter than chapter five, because that one was a humdinger! Reviews are welcome!_

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of it's characters.


	7. The Genius and The Apple

_Chapter Seven: The Genius and The Apple_

_Columbus, Ohio, 1911_

_Carlisle_

"Doctor Cullen? We have an emergency patient with a broken leg, could you tend to her?" The head nurse called me from the end of the hall.

I nodded and turned around to follow her into the waiting room.

"Patient details?" I asked the nurse.

"Esme Anne Platt, sixteen years of age, usually treated my Dr. Clements, Patricia will be your nurse."

I nodded, "Did she say how the break occurred?"

The nurse pursed her lips in strong disapproval, "Falling from a tree."

I couldn't help the amusement that coursed through my veins.

Esme Anne Platt was a woodland fairy. Her mother unhappily plucked leaves and branches from her caramel curls as her father watched on disapprovingly from afar.

"We're never going to be able to marry you off to a man with good prospects if you keep acting like the Esme," her mother's tone mirrored the nurse's face, but Esme merely sighed, "I'm sorry mother," her voice was soft and gentle.

"Here's the doctor," Mr. Platt's voice was gruff.

I smiled at the family when my presence was noted. Mrs. Platt froze when she saw me, a natural reaction amongst many, and Mr. Platt shuffled in annoyance.

Esme, however, gave me a small, shy smile.

"You must be Mr and Mrs. Platt, I'm Doctor Cullen, I have been filling in for Doctor Clements while he has taken his leave."

"He said he'd be back next month, yes?" The gruff Mr. Platt demanded.

"Yes," I nodded, "He'll be back next month. May I please examine your daughter's leg?"

Mr. Platt nodded and I made my way over to the small girl, who sat in one chair, with her leg propped up on another.

"Stop fawning over her," Mr. Platt commanded to his wife, who had returned to smoothing Esme's hair.

"I apologise," she murmured as she withdrew her hands and stood up, moving to stand by her husband, leaving her daughter alone.

"Good evening, Miss Platt."

She smiled bashfully again, "Good evening, Doctor Cullen."

"Are you in very much pain?" I asked softly, as I crouched down by her leg.

"I am, a little, yes. But I don't think it to be a very large break," she murmured softly.

"Let the doctor make his own mind up, Esme," her father grumbled.

I smiled at her; "It looks a little swollen, but nothing too bad. May I lift you up, to take you into one of the wards?"

"Yes," she breathed timidly.

As gently as I could I lifted her up, she weighed not much more than a feather. Her light brown eyes never left my face as we left the room.

Esme did not look much like either of her parents. Her features were not rough like those of her father's or frail like those of her mother's, instead she had large doe eyes, a button nose, and plump lips. Her cheeks were full and I saw the slight pull of dimples when she spoke, and all of it sat in a love-heart shaped face, surrounded by billows of light brown waves for hair.

I heard the young nurse follow behind me as I carried Esme to an empty room. I lay her down on the bed, and raised my eyes to her.

"May I feel for the break?"

She nodded her consent.

"You're parents are very worried about you," I murmured in passing.

She looked up to me stunned, and then surprised me by letting out a small laugh, her eyes danced with an amused light, "Oh, they're not worried about _me,_ they're worried about what everyone _else_ will _think_."

My emotions were a mix of frustration, sadness, and confusion. The latter must have played upon my face, for she elaborated in her quiet voice.

"Their sixteen year old daughter has just been caught climbing trees. It's the scandal of the century. Ouch," she whispered under her breath.

I gave her a tight smile, and then turned around for the needle.

"This may hurt a little, Esme." The nurse cooed in a tone I, myself, found rather patronising, "Perhaps you should keep talking to distract yourself?"

The young girl looked frightened at the thought of talking, more so than the needle, so I smiled in encouragement.

"Well, all right. I suppose in my defence of the whole debacle, the century really only has just begun."

I couldn't help the laughter that arose from my chest at her surprising comment.

The nurse wasn't impressed.

"Okay, honey, perhaps you should read something instead. What do _sixteen year olds _like to read _these days?_ There are some books here, I'll put them on the table next to you." I ignored her petty jabs at Esme's age. The unnatural good looks were often an annoying part of being a vampire, I'd found.

"Oh, thank you, but I really shouldn't," Esme objected softly.

"Yes, you really should."

I almost groaned at her pushy tone.

"Nurse?" I murmured, she looked up, "Could you please hand me the other vial of anaesthetic from the station?"

She nodded and rushed away.

"I do apologise," I murmured once the woman was out of earshot.

"Oh, no," Esme whimpered, "I apologise for offending her. I truly didn't mean to."

I momentarily marvelled at her sweet heart.

"Oh, I know. It's not you, please, think nothing of it. Now, this is going to sting a little, all right?"

She nodded and took a deep breath, the nurse arrived back with the extra anaesthetic, "Thank you, I'll think I can handle it from here. Could you please go and see that Miss Platt's family is comfortable, and then place those last files upon my desk? Thank you."

The nurse grumbled softly, but left without any objection.

I turned back to look at Esme, "So," I murmured as I readied the needle, "What's your favourite colour?"

"Blue," she breathed.

I grinned, "Mine too. Any particular reasons?"

I heard her sharp intake of breath as the needle punctured her skin, "The sky is blue, and the sky does not have definitive limits and I like the feeling of infinite possibilities so I like the colour blue." She spoke softly and quietly.

I grinned, "I am impressed. Your reasons for liking blue are much better than mine."

"Hmm?"

"Blue is nice." I spoke quietly.

She nodded, a small smile playing on her lips, "Blue _is _nice."

I withdrew the needle once the vial was empty and smiled down at the young girl.

"All done, you're very brave."

She laughed at me disbelievingly so, then apologised for her behaviour.

I shook my head, "Please, don't apologise. It's nice to speak to someone so refreshingly honest." I grinned, "I'll be back once I've gathered the plaster to set your leg. You were right, it's not a big break."

She nodded and thanked me quietly as I left.

I came back to see her sitting upright, nose half-buried in an old and tattered copy of The Strand Magazine, which one of the older doctors had brought over from London nearly two decades before.

"I see you changed your mind about reading then?"

She looked up in surprise, obviously not having noticed my entrance, and grinned timidly before shutting the book and placing it back down on the table.

"Only while you were away," she murmured.

"Please," I insisted, "Don't let me stop you."

She looked down shyly and blushed, then let out a laugh, "I'm not actually allowed to read."

Her confession surprised me, "Why ever not?"

I had reached the trolley at the foot of her bed, by then, and placed my tools upon it. I looked to her with a confused expression upon my face.

She eyed me carefully, as if wondering if she could trust me with the truth or not, "My mother disapproves greatly of what I like to read, so much so, we're not to have any books on the farm at all."

I raised my eyebrows then grinned and spoke teasingly, "You must have terrible taste in stories then, Miss Platt."

She gave me a toothy grin, "Oh but that's the problem, I really don't. Mother doesn't approve of anything that's not Jane Austen, or Charlotte Bronte, but I much prefer Arthur Conan Doyle, and Emily Bronte. Oh, I do think I almost damaged her heart when I spoke of Heathcliff and Cathy not being quite as terrible as she seemed to think and Emily Bronte being the best writer of the three sisters for her unparalleled imagination, and then she nearly burned every book in the house when I told her I planned to read Edgar Allen Poe, she'd much rather me read Emerson. The matter didn't improve when she found the children's books under my bed.  
"She said there was no point in dreaming of Oz, no point in dreaming of Wonderland, and no point in dreaming of Neverland either, because I'm far too old for that. I'm too old to dream, she thinks. I disagree."

I grinned despite myself, "I do too. Were you enjoying the story in that issue?" I asked nodding to the book by her bedside.

"Oh, yes," she nodded eagerly, "Very much so. I have never read it before. It's called 'The Adventure of the Speckled Band,' do you know it?"

I nodded, "I do. Now, I'm just going to touch your leg, tell me if you can feel it."

She nodded, so I stepped around her bed and bent down to feel the break. She winced, "Still tender?" I asked.

"A little," she murmured.

"But less than before?"

She nodded definitively.

I smiled, "A little bit longer then." I took a deep breath, "Yes, I am familiar with 'The Adventure of the Speckled Band,' it is one of my favourites so far."

"Is it very old?" She asked.

"I think it was published in 1892. So it's a little older than you."

She nodded thoughtfully, "I didn't quite finish it, do you remember how it ends?"

I nodded.

"Pray tell, does it have anything to do with the ventilation?"

A large smile spread across my face, it was equal parts surprised and delighted, "What makes you say that?"

She was thoughtful for a moment, "Entry could not have been made through the window nor the door, and so the only other possibility is the ventilator. An adult human could not fit through there, so possibly it could have been a child… or of course an animal. You know what they say," she looked me directly in the eye, "Truth is not bound by any rules, so often it is stranger than what is written in black ink."

I nodded, "It was a snake."

Her eyes widened, "A snake? Oh really? That's why it was speckled! That makes so much sense now. He's ever so brilliant is he not?"

"Conan Doyle, or Mr. Holmes?"

"Are they not one and the same?"

I grinned, "Indeed, I suppose they are."

The young Esme looked out the window wistfully, I marvelled at how beautiful she was, even then.

"I would so greatly like to meet, Mr. Conan Doyle one day, but I am rather afraid I would be disappointed, for the irrational side of me would want him to be Sherlock Holmes despite me knowing that he is fictional, and make-believe."

I smiled slightly, "Indeed, I find myself thinking the same things about many people I would like to meet. May I feel your leg again?"

She nodded, "Of course."

I probed her leg, but she shook her head, "I can't feel a thing."

We grinned at each other for a moment, and I ever so briefly lost myself in her hazelnut eyes.

I quickly shook myself out of the daze, and straightened before reaching for the plaster.

"So I gather you like Mr. Holmes, then?"

"Oh, yes. Very much, indeed. I'm captivated by his intelligence."

"And you don't mind his… eccentricities?" I asked carefully.

She laughed, "Not at all. Of course, I do agree, he is a little strange, but I don't think he can help it. I believe he was born that way. You see, we can't control _what_ we are, but we can decide _who_ we want to be, and we can dedicate our entire lives to becoming that person. Our decisions define us more than the circumstances were are given."

Of course, she never realised exactly what those words meant to me, and I could never give her the chance to, so I grinned, "That is quite revolutionary, Miss Platt."

She laughed, the sound was so carefree and young, "Doctor Cullen, I climb trees. I don't doubt for one second that all along you have known that I don't much like to comply with the standards set by today's society."

I grinned in confirmation of her words, "How ever is someone so young filled with so much wisdom?" I wondered aloud.

I heard her give a quiet snicker, "I used to read a lot."

We shared another grin.

"So what do _you _want, Miss Platt? I can't imagine a soul like yours would be content with housework and things of the like."

Her reply laugh was quiet, "Quiet right, Doctor. I always thought I'd like to move out West… to the wilds."

I raised an eyebrow, not at all surprised, "To the wilds?"

She sighed, "I know. It's no place for a lady. But, oh, the grand adventures. I could do something respectable, it's not as though I'd be waist deep in mud, or high up in trees _all_ of the time."

"Only some of it?" I laughed, as I reached for her leg and began to plaster it. Going as slowly as I could, to prolong our conversation.

She grinned, "Yes, only some of it. The rest of the time, oh, I don't know. I could be a teacher? I could teach children to read and write, and learn proper lessons from books. I've always been good at mathematics, although my mother doesn't like me mentioning that, it's not a very feminine subject, but it's natural to me. I could teach children sums, and give them a good start in life, give them hope and teach them how to dream wildly and vividly."

"And how to fall out of trees," I murmured.

"Oh hush you!" She laughed, "It was an accident."

Our laughter rang together in such a beautiful way.

"Despite your mother's best efforts, Esme, I daresay she has not accomplished in reducing the size of your wild and vivid dreams, nor removing literature from your life for that matter."

She grinned proudly, but her eyes bore into mine with extreme tenderness, "One never really loses their love of literature, Doctor Cullen. I'll hide it, but she'll never take it away from me."

I nodded, "Will promise me something, Esme?"

She smiled and cocked her head to the side, "Yes?"

"If you choose to continue on with your rebellious endeavours, which I don't doubt you will, perhaps you should trade tree climbing for book smuggling? I think it a healthier alternative."

She grinned widely, "I'll get my hands on Edgar Allan Poe someday…"

"Carlisle." I returned her wide smile, and somehow hers grew wider.

"Carlisle."

As I fixed the plaster on her delicate skin we talked more. I told her of my family, my education, my hobbies, and she talked passionately about her thoughts on everything. In the short time I knew her, I came to know her better than any other person I had ever met, and she was utterly beautiful for it. She told me she never envied any character in any book, because she had infinite possibilities in her life. Her life, she said, could be everything she wanted, or more than she had ever dreamed.

Once I had finished treating her leg, I was filled with such a potent sadness at the thought of never seeing the beautiful being again.

"Thank you, Carlisle," she murmured, "For fixing my leg _and_ listening to my daft little ramblings."

I smiled at her thoughtfully, "I wouldn't say our conversation was any kind of daft ramblings. Nor would I ever say _anything_ about you is daft, Esme. So I must thank _you_. You have taught me many things in our short time together."

Her eyes lit up, as my favourite wide grin spread across her face, "Sometimes people fall into our lives for a reason."

I nodded grinning, "Indeed they do."

"So I guess that makes you Newton, and I'm the apple that fell from the tree."

Irrationally I placed my hand on the side of her face, she smiled demurely.

"The very best apple that there ever will be."

* * *

_A.N. This was so much fun to write! I wanted to create a young Esme who could absolutely captivate Carlisle. I have read a lot of interviews with SM, how she states that Esme is just as smart as Carlisle, and out of all of the Cullens, they have the most intellectual type relationship. I really aimed to create a young Esme here who was already insultingly wise for someone her age, in the time that she lived._

Having written this now, new sense is given to the interactions between Carlisle and Esme in the previous chapters, so please feel free to re-read them and notice new things.

I hope you're all enjoying my take on the story so far!

Reviews are always appreciated!


	8. Familiarity (Part 2)

_Chapter Eight: Familiarity Continued_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, April 1921_

_Carlisle_

'Edgar Allan Poe.'

This was her someday book, and today was her someday.

I grinned to myself as I made my way back to Mrs. Fortendue's shop, momentarily forgetting all about the impending embarrassment.

The embarrassment caught up with me soon enough though. Although I had allowed enough time for the girls to finish picking out clothes for Esme, they were not done yet, a purposeful move I supposed.

I opened the door, and the bell sang once again as I entered the store.

The giggling girls from the back room, Hazel and Mary, were in the front room with their mother now. Holding up dresses to show to one another, whispering words that were mostly giggles then putting them on one of two piles.

"Doctor Cullen!" Mrs. Fortendue exclaimed from behind one of the piles, "You came back! We're almost done, my dear. You'll be wanting to get home and rest, won't you, you poor thing? I hope this niece of yours is a good nurse, she'll have to make you and Edward some good hearty food, is she a good cook, do you know?"

"A very good cook," I murmured smiling, hoping to avoid a spontaneous visit to the house from Mrs. Fortendue, "In fact, perhaps it is my favourite thing about being ill." I let out a laugh.

Mrs. Fortendue smiled, but seemed oddly put out. She nodded and turned around to look at the two girls, who were giggling and sorting through clothes still, but obviously listening in to our conversation.

"You know my two daughters, yes? Mary and Hazel."

The two girls looked around to me, then blushed, giggled and looked away.

"Hello girls," I smiled.

They giggled even harder at that.

"Girls are you almost done? I think Doctor Cullen is eager to get home."

They nodded.

"Come here dear, I've got some ready and packed for you." She led me over to the counter, where three bags sat.

She peeked into one of the bags and spoke without looking up, "I didn't put any corsets in, those things are going out of fashion very quickly, but I did sneak in some of the newest style slips that look unbelievably comfortable," she looked up to me smiling, then remembered who she was talking to, her face flooded with colour, "Oh I am so sorry, Doctor Cullen, I don't know what came over me."

I smiled, "Think nothing of it, Mrs. Fortendue."

She nodded, "Girls!" She barked, "Are you finished yet. Hurry, hurry."

She turned back to me, "I'll ring these up for you, dear."

I nodded, "Thank you."

"So, Doctor Cullen," Mary murmured as she placed two bags upon the countertop, "Is she pretty, your niece?"

I looked at her stricken at her boldness, "Uh, yes. Yes she is."

"Will we see her in town any time soon?" Hazel perked up.

I cleared my throat, "She's very shy, and more of a homebody, but perhaps you might see her around the library."

"How old is she?" Mary wondered as Hazel put the final bag on the countertop.

"In her twenties."

"And she's not married?"

"Her family were all very sickly, and I'm afraid she is also."

Mary and Hazel shared a knowing glance, looking somewhat relived, "No better place to be than living with a Doctor then!"

I smiled and nodded, impatient to leave the little store.

Once the clothes were paid for, I had to make two trips to the car, for all sixteen bags.

I had an odd feeling Esme would feel somewhat overwhelmed at the amount of clothes I was bringing home for her.

I looked to my pocket watch to check how long I'd been gone. It had only been an hour. Oh, how it felt like so much longer!

I sped along the open roads back out to our house on the edge of town, hoping everything was well when I returned.

Edward greeted me on the porch.

_Did everything go okay?_

He nodded.

_And she was okay?_

He nodded again.

_Are you leaving early for class?_

Another nod.

_Why?_

"I have something to pick up at the post office."

"I already got that for you."

Edward sighed.

I gave him a knowing glance; _You could have gone into town for me._

"I'll help you with the bags."

_Are there too many, will they overwhelm her?_

He shook his head; we grabbed eight bags each and carted them inside.

_Upstairs?_

Edward nodded, so I walked up the stairs with him in tow. Esme's door was open, but I stopped and knocked on the door nonetheless. She looked up, surprised.

I think, out of the two of us, I was more surprised than her.

You see, she was sitting in the window. Quite literally on top of the windowsill, perched right at the edge. Never, in my nearing three hundred years of walking God's green Earth had I ever met a grown woman who sat in windows. It was the most endearing thing I had ever encountered. Of course, the windowsill was not big enough for her, but a great deal many things about Esme reminded me of a cat, the one thing in that particular moment was that they both liked to rest places that were much too small for them, and it was nothing short of adorable.

"Oh, sorry, I was lost in the book," she laughed shyly.

I grinned as I noticed a leather-bound volume in her hands. Curiosity burned as I wondered what book had caught her fancy.

I was distracted when her eyes fell upon the bags in our hands.

"Now, I know it looks like a lot," I spoke quickly, "But trust me it's not, and the girls had great fun picking them out for you. So it was a good deed all over."

She slowly climbed down from the windowsill and stood up straight, she looked ready to object, quite animatedly so, before she decided against it, smiled and whispered, "Thank you, Carlisle," then she looked at Edward, rather awkwardly holding the bags of dresses and her smile grew more amused, "And Edward."

We placed the bags down just inside the doorway almost like a peace offering, and she let out a laugh.

Her smile was radiant.

"I feel like a fiend that you are both so afraid of, and this is the gift that shall end the war."

I grinned, "I take it you never did give up your reading, then?"

She looked to me sadly, the light in her eyes only a dim ember of what was before, "Oh but I did. Mother found every book I smuggled into the house. The librarian told her I had been borrowing, and when I got married, mother told Charles of my love for fictional adventure, and he would have burned every book in a hundred mile radius if he could." She let out sad laugh, "There was this one time when his closest friend's wife – Darlene – gave me Charles Dickens, and he couldn't say no, so he let me take it…" She grinned, "It was a Christmas Carol, the first book I had read in years, I absolutely adored it, but I only got halfway through when…" her smile faded, Edward stiffened and she looked to the floor, "I apologize."

Anger bubbled through my body as I tried to repress the image of a faceless man venting his frustration at the world out on the beautiful woman before me.

Edward cleared his throat, "_You've_ nothing to apologize for. How do you like that book you picked out? I'd imagine it to be rather bland, myself."

She smiled down at the object in her hands then held it up to show me what one it was, _Plantae of the Americas._

"I figured it best to choose something devoid of any emotion, so not to taunt my melodramatic newborn emotions, and I've always loved nature, so I figure, why not?"

I gave her my best approving smile, "A very wise choice."

Then a mischievous glint appeared in her round red eyes, "I'll leave the Jane Austen novels until I can better act like a proper lady."

"So, you mean to say never, then?" Edward teased.

She pretended to look offended, but did not manage because of her fond little smile, "Oh, come now Edward. Would you really enjoy the listening to the poor misfortunes of Mr. Darcy and Miss. Bennet in my head for hours on end?"

"No, I most certainly would not. Thank you very much." He replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Then you'd be wise to think of my choice of literature as somewhat of a blessing," she laughed, to which we all joined in.

"Thank you again, for the clothes," she murmured when we moved to leave.

I nodded and smiled, "You're most welcome. Well be in the sitting room should you ever feel like company."

Her eyes came alight with tenderness, "Thank you, Carlisle."

"Think nothing of it."

Edward and I left her alone, to try on her brand new clothes. We tried not to listen to the soft whispers of fabric out of bags and onto silken granite skin, but I speak for myself when I say, sinfully, it was a hard thing to resist.

Every so often we heard the pitter patter of soft feet on the floorboards crossing from her room to the bathroom, where the feet would walk to where the mirror was, and turn on the spot a few times.

Irrationally so, I envied that mirror.

After a short while her soft footsteps descended the stairs. I had barely even noticed Edward move to the piano, or even myself opening my new medical journal.

I shook my head, bewildered at myself.

Esme entered the room wearing a skirt and blouse, with her caramel curls in a neat bun at the back of her head. She looked modest, but beautiful. I felt utterly relieved, having been concerned that the Fortendue women may have chosen completely outlandish outfits. The knowing smirk on Edward's face enlightened me that they had, and Esme must have chosen one of the only or few pieces that weren't eccentric. I cringed inwardly.

She smiled timidly at the doorway of the sitting room, I smiled at her encouragingly, but she did not enter more than a few feet.

I noticed her holding the clothes I had given her earlier, in her hands.

I smiled and stood up, slowly walking over to her place near the doorway.

Her eyes looked to my chin, avoiding contact with my own eyes, "I apologise for making you get up, I should have come over to you," she murmured.

"No matter." I smiled, "It is no problem."

She nodded slightly, still not meeting my eyes. I noticed how her foot refused to stay still, insisting upon fidgeting uncomfortably.

"Thank you for lending me your clothes," she held the garments away from her body, offering them up to me.

"You're most welcome." I paused before taking them, "I find I have not worn that shirt very often as of late, you are more than welcome to keep it for when we go hunting, so not to dirty any of your new things?"

She looked surprised, but smiled none-the-less, "Thank you," she murmured.

I took the trousers after thanking her, and moved upstairs to return them to my drawers. She followed me upstairs to put away the shirt I had just given her.

I made it back down before she could, but when she did, she once again hovered by the doorway.

I was baffled at her odd behavior.

"Come and sit down, I imagine there are many things you would like to talk about."

She looked shocked at my invitation, but quickly hid her expression in what I assumed to be, a well practiced, mask of calm.

She nodded and took the armchair nearest to the door. I watched her as she sat there, her foot still fidgeting, her hand grasping the arm, and her eyes looking everywhere aside from at Edward and I.

It was obvious she was extremely uncomfortable.

"So, Esme," I murmured.

Her head shot in my direction, her eyes wide with shock, and then suddenly she stood up, "I apologise, I just need to … walk. Could we go back outside?" Her voice had an almost frantic edge to it.

I looked to Edward, his fist was balled, his eyes black.

Neurons fired. It all made sense.

I stood up carefully and nodded, Edward followed suit. He gestured to the door, "After you m'lady."

Esme gave him a small smile, and then all but ran out of the room.

_Unpleasant memories?_ I asked him in my head.

He gave me a curt nod.

I suppressed a growl, and then followed Esme out of the room. She used the back door, through the kitchen, not waiting for me to open it for her, instead holding it open for me as she passed through.

I felt horribly unchivalrous, until I realised she was probably used to opening doors for men, then I felt horribly nauseated.

I had the chance to take her. I could have made her leave Ohio with me. I don't think she would have objected. I would have let her read whatever books she wanted, I would have taken her out west and encouraged her to teach. I would have caught her every single time she fell from a tree. I would have treated her as she deserved to be treated.

I could have.

But I didn't.

There weren't many regrets I lived with. I could list them all on one hand, but that right there was my big number one. I could have saved her so much pain, and given her so much happiness.

I felt sick.

Until Edward's elbow landed in my gut, "Get a hold of yourself." He mouthed.

_I'm sorry, Edward._

He gave me a meaningful look, then hurried to catch up with Esme. I did the same.

"So, now that we are out in your natural habitat," Edward cheekily began, "Do you have any questions for our resident ancient?"

Esme smiled, but cocked her head to the side, "Resident ancient?"

I cringed, "That would be me."

She looked to me surprised, then giggled, "Of course, I was going to say, you don't look ancient, but then we don't age. You could be a millennia old, and not look a day over eighty-two."

I couldn't help the laugh that escaped my chest, relief flooded through me at her improved mood, "Eighty-two is even a compliment to me, I'm that old."

Her eyes lit up with her disbelieving smile, "No."

I nodded, "Yes," then laughed, "I was born in the mid-sixteen hundreds."

"In London?" She queried, remembering my confessions in the hospital room.

I nodded.

Her eyes widened in wonder, which was not quite the reaction I expected, "How incredible, oh! You must have seen so much! I would have love to have seen the sixteen hundreds. Here I am, envious of those that lived more than I in last century, and to find that you've known the eighteen and seventeen hundreds as well as the sixteen hundreds! How incredible, oh, pray tell, what were they like?"

So we fell into a pattern of sharing stories, sharing laughs and the stray touch of a hand.

Outside I found my woodland fairy once again, and I promised myself someday, I'd make sure my woodland fairy wouldn't be so afraid to stay indoors.

* * *

_A.N. Thank you to my faithful readers for faithfully reading, and an extra special thanks to my lovely reviewers, Booklovingfreak7, Cris.P.C, and my guest reviewer for your lovely reviews. Thank you for taking the time to tell me your thoughts, I cherish every single word._

_This chapter was somewhat difficult for me to write after the previous one that came so easily. Although I got it out in the end! Hopefully I will have yet another chapter up very soon (within a couple of hours). Again, reviews are most welcome, and I hope you're all enjoying the story so far!_

_P.S. Carlisle didn't forget to give Esme the book, watch out for it in the coming chapters!_


	9. The Apple Slipped But Did Not Fall

_Chapter Nine: The Apple Slipped But Did Not Fall_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, May 1921_

_Edward_

Esme's first few weeks as a newborn were placid compared to how mine had been. Two days after her the end of her transformation, Carlisle went back to work. He was both pleased and upset by this. It amused and frightened me somewhat at how different Carlisle had become since Esme woke up. The calm Doctor I had come to know and love, who favoured logic and sense over all else, had become a mess of uncertainty and unadulterated glee. Everything about Esme made him happy, a type of happiness he had never known before. It alarmed even him.

So Esme and I spent the long nights together, while Carlisle was bombarded with questions from nurses about his new sickly niece. I went to classes by day, leaving Carlisle alone with Esme. They took to each other like nothing else.

On the few days we spent together, when I had an absence of class, we went running through the forest for fun, and the occasional hunt, we played the occasional game and discovered Esme had a particular talent for hide and seek, and sat on the forest floor sharing stories.

There was one particular day at the end of her first week, when, in a bout of sudden tenderness, Esme swept both Carlisle and I into a tight hug.

From that day on, we were _her _boys.

Carlisle took it upon himself to find her new hobbies after one day he came home to find her reading the very same book she always read.

_Edward, can she hear us?_

I turned around from my spot at the piano, my fingers still flying across the keys, "No."

_What does she do while I'm at work?_

I gave him a shrug, "Read. Think… Wait for you to get home."

_I need to find more hobbies for her. More things that she likes. I don't want her waiting for me for the rest of eternity._

I shrugged once again and turned back to face the keys, then in a very small whisper I said, "She doesn't mind."

His thoughts blazed like wildfire at that, a potent mix of glee, pride and shame.

"Just give her more books, Carlisle, and convince her the words won't bring on the uncontrollable newborn emotions."

So we bought her more books, and she began to read them all.

We learned very quickly that no matter how many books we gave her she'd finish them all before we could get more, and the more we bought her, the quicker she'd read them.

Her thirst for literature almost rivalled her newborn thirst for blood. Except there was no resiting temptation, she could let the animal run wild. Like her thirst for blood, her thirst for words was insatiable.

She worked her way around the library, reading everything that was English, even Carlisle's medical texts found their way into her hands, but to her they tasted both bland and sour. Because everything tasted to her… In a figurative sense. She didn't always think with words in her mind, sometimes she thought in tastes, and in colours, but more often than not, she thought in feelings.

There were some I agreed with, having even felt them myself before, like running in the forest felt liberating, listening to my piano felt calming, but others I would never understand, complex feelings I didn't realize existed before her. To her, feeling her feet in the Earth felt comforting and thrilling and exciting, because it reminded her of all the happy times she had as a child, and of what a real home felt like, but the thrill had never left the feeling, it was almost as though conflicting feelings never conflicted in her mind.

If there were one person in the whole world whose thoughts I would never mind hearing, that person was _her_.

Everything she thought was filled with wonder, and love. Love. That was all she knew. All she really knew was how to love. She loved the sky, and the sound of the wind, she loved storms, and our rickety old house, she loved the curtains that she hated, she loved the colours of the Earth, she loved the books she read, but most of all, _most of all _she loved the man who gave that all to her.

If I ever mentioned that to Carlisle, he'd assume I meant God, but I didn't mean God, Esme knew no God. I meant Carlisle. Most of all, Esme loved Carlisle. She loved me too; of course, the woman was incapable of not loving anything that was put in front of her, but Carlisle was special to her heart, as he always had been.

So when Esme was finished reading Carlisle's medical texts, which she had left only as a last resort, and we had yet to bring her any other literature from the library in town that she had almost read dry, she began to teach herself to read Latin. Once that was done, she read every Latin book in the house. Then she learned French, and Italian, Chinese and Arabic. Any book we had in the house that was in any language at all, she read.

I marvelled at her. Second to loving things, Esme was brilliant at teaching herself things.

Sadness had a tendency to pang at my heartstrings whenever I considered what could have been for her, because she would have made the very best schoolteacher, climbing trees in the wilds.

Once Esme had finished reading every written word she could find, she began creating. She wrote in her head, created stories in her mind, she painted pictures with the colours out of her window, she crafted melodies from the feelings of her heart, which she hummed as she waltzed around her room, her mind a million miles away.

She was the most pleasant thing to have around, the most glorious being to get to know, the most beautiful soul I had ever seen… And I didn't believe in souls.

Esme fluttered around the house like a charming summer's breeze, it was welcome and refreshing and loved by all.

It was only through Carlisle I noticed that she wore the pink curtain she ripped on the very first day as a hair ribbon every once in a while, and that she often had a skipping motion to her run, and her dimples came out sometimes even when she spoke, and when she was feeling bashful she'd brush a wayward tendril of her caramel curls off of her face and stare at her toes. So because of Carlisle and his almost-obsession, I found myself often writing about Esme, instead of the essay I was supposed to be writing. His mind was the one I was so attuned to, it spoke louder than all of the rest, and it wasn't the most helpful of things.

Through Esme I learned things I had never noticed about Carlisle, how he ran his fingers through his light blonde hair whenever he was feeling nervous, how he leaned on whatever was near instead of standing upright, how he shook his head when he found something funny, and couldn't stop showing his teeth when he smiled a smile that meant he was truly happy.

It became far too easy to forget that Esme was still a newborn, that she had been a vampire for less than a month.

Esme slipped for the very first time on the last Thursday of her first month. We three were all out hunting in the woods not far from where we lived, when she ran off without either of us knowing what was happening. I heard them next, my gift being more sensitive than either of our ears. That's when we knew she had much better senses than either of us. That's when we knew this would be harder for her. And that's when we knew we were too late to make her stop. I saw it all through her eyes. She killed five men. She didn't know she was doing any of it.

* * *

_The smell was intoxicating. Delectable. The sweetest thing she had ever smelt. The forest flew beneath her feet faster than ever before, as she ran to claim the delicacy as hers. It smelt a thousand times better than the unappealing deer blood she had been forcing herself to drink, and in that moment she was so far gone, she didn't even know why she did it._

_Glee coursed through her body in such a way she had never felt before. She was about to taste heaven. She could hear the heartbeats, there were four, or five, pounding not far away, pushing sweet hot blood through thin frail veins, that were beckoning her forward __intensely._

_The haze of bloodlust filled her senses, leaving her blind to sense, but she liked it that way. This was the best feeling she had ever felt. It was not human, it was so much better than that._

_She saw the men then, their heartbeats were so loud in her ears, the smell so potent it almost hurt, and that when she saw the small strip of red oozing from a gash on one of the men's leg. They never had a moments warning. They never knew what happened, just all of a sudden they were dead._

_One._

_Two._

_Three._

_Four._

_Five._

_Gone in just a second. She didn't drain them all, she was far too full to finish her meal. Five men were too much for one small vampire._

_Vampire._

_That's what she was. A true little vampire with bright red eyes and a blood stained shirt. _

_And finally, the burn in her throat was gone._

_What an incredible feeling. To be full._

_But soon the haze began to clear and she could hear someone in the bushes._

_She almost turned around and growled, but something in her mind clicked. She had just murdered five innocent men. She had just taken five lives. Five brothers, five husbands, five sons. The guilt was worse than the taste was good._

_She couldn't turn around to see his face, which would be filled with compassion as always, because she hated herself for what she did. It was something that he had never done. He had never lost control, but she had. She was a killer._

_She didn't know what to do._

_So she fell on the floor and cried. She screamed and cried. She barely noticed the arms that picked her up, or the voice that tried to soothe her. She didn't notice as the kind doctor sat her down on her bed, and his nimble surgeons hands helped her change her bloodied shirt for one that wasn't so soiled. She didn't notice as he picked her back up, and tucked her beneath the cool sheets, or as he left, and she never knew how many times he came back. She just screamed and cried and drowned in her guilt and sadness, the pain rivalled that of the fire, and she didn't know exactly how she'd make it through._

* * *

Carlisle wouldn't let me help all that much. He knew that if I too smelt the blood, I would lose control. I was not long out of my newborn years, my control wasn't mastered like his.

She didn't know how to cope. That was one of the very worst times during her newborn stage, when she let go of not only her sanity that kept her from killing, but of the hold she had on her newborn emotions. She wouldn't stop weeping for days. She lay in her bed, her head beneath the pillows and cried and cried and cried. She cried about the loss of the lives of the men, who were hikers we discovered later, she cried about the loss of her son, because she missed him, and about the disappointment she had surely caused us.

She wasn't ready to understand we weren't disappointed. She wasn't ready to know we loved her already.

Not just yet.

One afternoon Carlisle came home with pots upon pots of plants.

"The woman at the store told me that should be in bloom by July, I think."

So we made a little garden in full view of Esme's room, where she could sit by the window and be reminded of the beauty of the world.

Carlisle swore in his head that she'd love them, _particularly the lilies_, he thought, _I know she'll love the lilies_.

Through the wood of the walls and floorboards, Carlisle promised her that he would try his best not to let it happen again, but he also promised her that his best might not be good enough.

She cried even more at that, because she knew it was true of her too.

After four days we managed to get her out of the house to hunt. She took Carlisle's hand gingerly when he offered it, trying to convince herself that if she kept a hold of him, she wouldn't lose her mind again, but she and I both knew the real reason was because it made her feel better.

She only let him go when she took down her kill, and once we were done she took it back again. It calmed them both remarkably. They were each addicted to the drug that was the other, in such a way that it seemed as though they weren't quite aware of it. Carlisle held Esme's hand because that's what felt right, not because he was consciously aware of the developing feelings he harboured for a woman he barely knew. Esme held Carlisle's hand because she had always loved him, but she loved him now more than she even knew.

That was how these things happened, I knew, when a person is changed from a human to a vampire, they never change again. Until they find their mate. Then they change once more. That's how you know that person is the one. The only one you will ever love.

I thought that was all a bunch of codswallop.

Until Carlisle found Esme.

When we got back to the house, neither one let go, but both Carlisle and I knew that Esme was still filled to the brim with sorrow. Her bottom lip quivered and her little frame shook, so Carlisle did something that he somehow knew would work. He gave her the book.

"Edgar Allen Poe," she whispered under her breath, "Carlisle, I…"

"It looks like today is your someday, little apple." He said with a tender smile.

We were all sitting in the library, a place she didn't mind (she still wasn't used to the sitting room yet), but she was better at being inside.

Carlisle pulled both the chairs from either side of his desk, in front of the fire, as I dragged over the lounge. Esme sat down, her nose already immersed in the book, as Carlisle lit the fire.

_Our little family _I heard him thinking.

I tried to hide my smile, as he stood up and took his seat next to Esme, who was already drowning in her beloved words. He looked to her with such tenderness aflame in his eyes, glad to have her back. He turned back to me and we shared a large grin, and then settled into our night, about to introduce Esme into our favourite little ritual…

* * *

_A.N. Having studied everything I can get my hands on that is Twilight, I've come to the conclusion that Esme slipped _before_ she can Carlisle were married (1921) a conclusion I drew due to the particular wording on Esme's backstory in the Official Illustrated Guide, and that she killed more than Rosalie's 5 men. (So she's going to slip again! Oh no!) Hope you guys like this chapter. _

_It's very late in my corner of the world, so you might notice a few changes if you read it again tomorrow._


	10. The Smile of A Gentleman (Part 1)

_Chapter Ten: The Smile of a Gentleman_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, May 1921_

_Esme_

The study was not little by any means, after all, it was intended as the main bedroom for some architectural reason that I found I disagreed with, (it did add to the quirks of the house, however) but somehow during the night, the doctor's study managed to be both grand and cosy, as we three sat and became acquainted. It had been our routine every Tuesday night for the passed month, the first month of my vampire life, to sit in that room and talk through every topic that ever came to mind. I always left that room feeling as though I knew my two boys, but also they were holding something back. It was that very Tuesday, on the day that was my someday, that I discovered what they had kept from me.

Carlisle had pulled up two seats by the fire, as he often did, and Edward had silently dragged over the lounge. It wasn't how we always did things, after all, I had never been one for routine, but it was practised enough to be familiar. I was not, nor had ever been a particularly impatient person, in fact, waiting was something I had become extraordinarily adept at over my human years, but it was not a practise I indulged in when unnecessary, for I was a curious being, and I had to know Mr. Edgar Allen Poe. So I dived right in. I figured should either Carlisle or Edward crave to speak to me, they would do so, and if they were merely content to address each other then that would be how things were done that night, and I would sit in their company while my mind bathed in the words of another's.

I loved the smell of new books, much like I adored the sound of teaspoons on china saucers or the look of hand painted English teacups. It was a scent I could inhale happily for the remainder of forever, and never tire of.

I was suddenly aware of tender eyes gazing at me from Carlisle's direction. He had taken his seat in the armchair by my side, and Edward was lounging on the chaise. The newly built fire, coupled with that of my feverish turning pages, and three vampire's unnecessary breaths, were the only sounds that filled the room. Until Edward and Carlisle shared a grin, and Edward began to speak.

"Harding promised to end the war."

"A promise I don't think is unrealistic, not in these times."

"I think he's foolish, why end the war now? How has it been solved?"

"I don't quite see how a war can be _solved _exactly, enlighten me, son."

My epiphany hit me fast, with a lot of force as I sat there in the firelight that very Tuesday night, listening to the two men debate. They did not argue. They offered up differing opinions and fully justified those ideas. It grew heated at points when they paced the room, and talked with their hands in passionate voices filled with feeling, but it was all in good faith. They never lost their temper; they grew frustrated but not angry.

I realised then, as I watched the two men, why exactly I had struggled so much with being a lady when I was young. Had I grown up around people such as Edward and Carlisle, I would still have a heart that was wild, but my refinement would not be so forced. It would have come naturally through the association with gentlemen. However, in my life, all I knew were gruff angry men who were partial to booze. Even my father was like that. My mother would not have struggled so hard with me if I had been around gentlemen who gave me a reason to be a lady. It is not as though I enjoyed putting blame on other's shoulders, but what did it matter, really? If I refused to drink tea and giggle about subjects that held no substance all the while looking out for a man whom my father would approve of my marrying. That life was a life that had little point, and it was not one I was interested in leading. There was more to being a lady than that, and I succeed in my own little way. I was kind and gentle, despite being filled with outlandish ideas and an untameable passionate heart, I was patient and caring, despite not knowing there was a difference between the spoon I should use for dessert and a melon. Whatever was wrong with the lady I was? Was it really only that I was not the lady they wanted me to be? I spent a great deal of my life, wishing so reverently that I could be someone else, when really all I ever needed was to find the people who would appreciate me for who I was naturally.

I realised in that moment, in front of that fire, in that grand yet cosy big room, that I was with those people right then, and it did not matter that I had spent my whole life up to then, surrounded by people who wanted to put out my fire, because I had an eternity with those who wanted to see it thrive. _That_ was what mattered. I felt like it all made sense then, I felt like this was how it was supposed to be, that perhaps there was a God, and this is what He planned, that I be here and they be here and we all suit each other so perfectly by being so utterly differently the same. And there was no problem with me like I had come to believe, and the faults of the world were not faults of my own, and I was perfect in my own way for them and for _me_, and thinking that wasn't selfish but _healthy_.

That was my favourite epiphany… that I belonged and I was loved. To make it all the better, I watched as Edward turned to smile and nod at me. Had I been able to shed a tear of pure happiness, I should have had ten thousand streaming down my cheeks.

So I sat there after I had reached my decision, Edgar's words all lost to me, and I tuned into the debate of the two men I adored. Their little ritual was the most captivating thing.

Edward stood firm on his word, that the war should carry on waging, but Carlisle, ever the advocate of peace, agreed with President Harding's electoral promise to see America's end to the Great War.

Edward, having been the son of one of Chicago's most prominent lawyers had a knack for rebuttals, which coupled with his ability to see flawlessly into Carlisle's every thought, made his arguments (no matter how much I disagreed with him) nearly impossibly to refute. Carlisle was the most formidable opponent that Edward could face; his two hundred and eighty-one years on Earth had provided him with absolute wisdom and incredible intelligence that he tactfully used to counter Edward's every sentence.

But they had come to somewhat of a standstill.

"What do you think, Esme?" Carlisle surprised me by asking.

I looked up to him, baffled.

"And don't you dare say that you think nothing of it because a debate is not a woman's place. You're not just any woman; you know very well that as a member of this family, you stand on no lower ground than either of us and your opinion is valued immensely," Edward spoke almost as though he was giving me a warning.

I smiled bashfully, especially when Carlisle agreed.

"So, Esme," Edward grinned, "What are your views on the subject at hand?"

His tone and expression were gloatingly gleeful, which led me to believe I was walking into a trap. I carefully decided what to do next, knowing as truth that he held the upper hand.

I closed the cover of my book and gave a small sigh, and then looked up at him feeling slightly resigned.

"Edward," I murmured in my most motherly tone, "I agree with your father."

It was not at all what he was expecting.

He looked shocked then grinned, "You honestly just said that?"

I nodded matter-of-factly.

"Now I feel like I'm making a bad decision in life that's going to end in my eternal damnation," he let out a laugh.

Carlisle shook his head in fondness and gave me my most favourite smile.

I had read every single book in his library, and a great amount of those from the library in Ashland town, but I had never quite come across a single word in the English language that could aptly describe his smile. So I learned new languages, I sought out new words, but I still failed to find any that fit. There were no words in any language that had ever been created since the dawn of time, nor were there any colours on God's green Earth, nor any melodies that man created nor feelings I had ever felt, that gave any justice at all, to Carlisle Cullen.

I had tried to paint the man, with the colours of the woods outside my window, I had tried to write him, with all the new words I learned, I tried to feel him with each new feeling I categorised, I tried to hum him with each new melody I made, but I always fell short, I never came close, because Carlisle Cullen was something else.

He was the light that gave life to all things on Earth, the rain that ended the drought, he was the fire that warmed the northernmost pole, and the stars that brought lost souls home.

I remembered every single time he had given me that smile.

* * *

_The First Smile: The Second Day_

_April 18th 1921_

_We were sitting together on the steps of the back porch; Edward had left for class again, after an entertaining night full of jabs at Carlisle's age. Edward suffered severe and confusing mood swings that I didn't like to think about until he was out of hearing range. He spent most of his time perfecting his brooding expression at the piano bench; he was almost as accomplished at that single expression as he was at his thousands of compositions. I had learned that he was the son of a lawyer, who was distant but showed his love through the things he provided for his wife and son. Edward attended the very best private schools that money could buy; he had piano lessons most days in the evenings and was indulged with everything he wanted to try. He was lucky, he said, he lived a good life. I think he cursed the Spanish flu._

_Carlisle and I had been discussing the morbidly depressing subject of the Italian vampires known as the Volturi. It was morbidly depressing because it reminded us of exactly what we were, but it also reminded us of what we had decided not to be. Carlisle reminded me that that was what mattered, truly. I tried the best I could to share his good faith._

_He told me of the time he spent in the place with the funny name, Volterra. I marvelled at how he managed to create himself a legend, Stregoni benefici, he called it, the good vampire. I almost told him that he deserved to be the thing of legends, but I bit my tongue before it spilled out. I most certainly didn't want to embarrass myself._

"_So in the end I decided I couldn't live that life anymore," he murmured in his soft voice, "Aro accepted my decision of diet but he so liked to challenge it, which told me no matter what he said, he really didn't accept it at all. He likes to collect the gifted ones of our kind, those who, I suppose, could be considered as 'freaks' and I was more of a freak to him, because _they_ couldn't help what they were, but _I_ decided to be what I was.  
"I do believe that is why he liked me at first, but I like to think – or fool myself into believing – he let me stay because we shared some intellectually stimulating conversations that he had been starved of for years. We were good friends, Aro and I, and we parted that way. He helped me get started in the new world, which I will always be thankful for."_

_I smiled to him sadly, as he gazed out into the forest. He sat on the top step, with me at his side, his hands clasped together between his legs, leaning forward somewhat in a casual pose. _

"_I think it's funny, our little world," I spoke slowly and softly, trying to chose the right words, "How we're so confused all the time, about what things are, so we often give them the wrong names. See, I for one, would never classify a good man and a freak as the same thing, because a good man is a good man. It's sad when he is the anomaly, what does that say about our world? When the one who chooses the right path gets laughed at by those who don't even stop to think about it?"_

_He looked to me for a moment, with curious eyes, then let out a laugh and gave me a tender smile, "I do wish I had you around back then, I could have done with hearing those words every once in a while."_

_I gave him a grin and a small little shrug, "I can be here for the rest of time if you'd like, so I'll give you them whenever you need."_

_Something in his eyes were still so very sad, and I wondered what he was thinking to make him so upset. I decided I had to change the subject. _

"_So where in the world haven't you been?"_

"_Haven't I been?" He queried, his eyes relighting with a curious glint as he raised his perfect eyebrows. _

_I nodded._

_He grinned, "Too many places to name."_

"_But you want to see it?"_

"_See it? See what?" He teased._

"_Out there," I raised my arm and swung it round to gesture at the rest of the world. However, instead of the playful expression I imagined would play upon his face, he merely looked amused, so for the briefest little second in our expanse of infinity I sat there a little confused. Then I heard the bang of my hand meeting the wooden banister of the porch. I watched him for a moment as he tried to hide his smirk, knowing he was waiting to see what I would say._

"_I just broke the porch, didn't I?"_

_And that's the first time he gave me _that _smile._

"_You did," he laughed, "But I'll fix it, don't worry."_

"_So that's our eternity then? I'll break things and tell you you're a good person, and then you'll fix the things I break?"_

_The smile didn't fade, "That sounds like a very good eternity, to me."_

* * *

_T__he Second Smile: The Sixth Day_

_April 22nd 1921_

_I sat on my bed engrossed in my book, but keeping an eye on the time. It was coming on morning, and the sun was about to rise, but that's not the reason I kept an eye on the time. No. There were three and a half hours, as well as twenty-two seconds until Carlisle came home from work._

_I had read the same book four times before and Edward could not understand why I kept reading it again and again. But if he felt the same as I, about the way that the smell of books and Carlisle's scent went together, then he'd grasp a better reason of why I loved it so._

_I ran my fingers over the page before me, marvelling at the beauty of the ink on paper, wondering why a greater percentage of the population never seemed to stop and marvel at such a small beauty, because it was the small beauties that really mattered. Like the leaves on the trees, had they never existed our trees would be barren every day of the year, just as they are in winter, and had feathers not been created, birds would not be quite so magnificent, so I decided many a year ago that at least I would be the appreciator of beauty, and that even meant the beauty that did not, at first, strike me as beautiful. Like the curtains in this funny old house, for example. I had never seen such hideous things, but when I stopped to look at them, at the thread that made them what they were, and how it was woven and bound and weaved, I saw a beauty I had never realised before, and even though I didn't like them, even though at the very first chance I would burn them and dance around the flames, a part of me loved them dearly._

_It was then I heard the gentle knock on my open door. Mentally chiding myself for being so absorbed in my thoughts I left myself dimly unaware of my surroundings, I turned around wondering what Edward wanted to see me for._

_But it wasn't Edward that stood at my door._

_"You're home early!" I exclaimed excitedly before I could think any better of it._

_Carlisle grinned, amusement dancing in his golden eyes, "I thought I'd come home to surprise you both. Your reaction was definitely worth it."_

_I laughed bashfully and looked to the ground, swiping my hair from my face._

_"How was your shift?" I queried._

_"Quite good, my patients are all doing well."_

_"I'm not at all surprised, they have the best doctor in the world."_

_Now it was his time to laugh bashfully, "I'm not so sure about that."_

_I grinned mischievously, "Well considering how many years you've had perfecting your trade, Doctor Cullen, I'd be very surprised to meet someone more adept than you."_

_He nodded, "Fair point. You win that one, Miss Platt."_

_Then the amused glint returned to his eye, so I cocked my head to the side in question._

_"I like what you've done with the curtains," he grinned, holding back the laughter I could tell._

_I wasn't sure if he did really like what I'd done with the curtains, or if he merely found it remarkably amusing, but my hand shot to the strip of pink on my head that now served as hair ribbon, "Well I couldn't very well let them die in vain!" I laughed, and then for the second time he gave me_ that _smile. _

_"I like it, I really do. Please, feel free to use the other curtains from the rest of the house if you ever want any more colours. Of course, I could buy you some from town, but I personally prefer the one you've made."_

_I raised my eyebrows in surprise as he leaned back against the doorway, "You do?"_

_He nodded still wearing _that _smile, "It's very you."_

* * *

_The Third Smile: The Ninth Day_

_April 25th 1921_

_We sat in his study; alone again, Edward had stalked off to class. He'd been brooding about something all morning, but I didn't want to pry, so I didn't ask. Carlisle was walking around the room, contemplating which book to read, I was sitting on the chair by his desk, my arms resting on the wood, and my chin resting on my skin. I wore my hair ribbon that day, just to see the look on his face, and that familiar amused glint in his eye._

_I watched him as he moved, he wore a white and blue striped shirt with a navy blue vest atop, and truth be told he honestly looked like my childhood imaginings of the prince from Cinderella. I was given a tattered old version of _Grimm's Fairytales _when I was seven by my favourite aunt. I devoured that book, I would have become it if I could, I loved it so much that it hurt._

_"Have you ever read The Brother's Grimm?" I murmured._

_Carlisle turned around, "The fairytales?" _

_I nodded._

_"I've read some of them, but not all. Have you?"_

_I grinned somewhat wistfully, "I have."_

_"Every one?"_

_"Every one that I know exists."_

_He let out a laugh, "That doesn't surprise me in the slightest. What is your favourite?" He picked a book off of the shelf, and then walked around his desk to sit opposite me, grinning at the way that I sat._

_"Cinderella," I murmured, his grin was wide, but it wasn't quite _that _smile, "And yours?" I queried._

_He let out a laugh, "I found I enjoyed Snow-White and Rose-Red. I found it rather comical."_

_"Comical?"_

_He gave a shrug, "I can't say I'm one for fairytales, but it gave me a chuckle or two. In my defence, I was alone for a very long time."_

_I gave him a toothy grin, "That makes more sense."_

_He laughed._

_"My favourite fairytale," I mused, "Isn't by The Brother's Grimm."_

_"It's not?"_

_"No. It's one I only ever read once, and I don't remember it all, but I remember I wished I could read it again, and again, and again."_

_He cocked his head to the side, "Do you remember the name?"_

_I nodded, "Beauty and the Beast."_

_He grinned, "I like that one too. Unfortunately I don't have it," he looked to the book in his hands, "But I do have Cinderella."_

_I felt my body light up with glee, "Oh, joy! Could you read it to me? Please?"_

_He grinned, "Of course," and opened the book, with a quiet but grand, "Once upon a time…"_

_When he read I could hear his accent, more than I could when he spoke, so I spent most of the time trying to picture Carlisle in the London of my imagination, but somehow he didn't fit._

_"What are you thinking?" He murmured._

_I looked up and met his eyes, "Hmmm?"_

_He grinned at me his eyes were amused, "You were a million miles away, my dear, what on Earth stole your mind?"_

_I let out a laugh, feeling somewhat self-conscious, then blurted out the truth, "I was trying to imagine you in what I think London looks like, but I can't fit you in correctly."_

_He laughed and gave a shake of his head, "Why ever can you not?"_

_"Because I'm not fully convinced that you actually are British, you're too good at being American."_

_So for the third time in nine days Carlisle gave me _that _smile._

_"I'll take you there someday, to London, and you can see how you think I fit then."_

* * *

_A.N. __I split this chapter in half because it was so very long! I really wanted to revisit important moments of the foundations of Carlisle and Esme's friendship in the month I skipped to get to her slip, so I apologise if you're not one for flashbacks. After this (and the second half of this) chapter the story will focus more on the relationship rather than just her settling in, but I thought it was rather important to have her settle in before she really developed her intense feelings for Carlisle.  
I feel like now I can get the ball rolling! _

_Thank you once again to my lovely reviewers, Booklovingfreak7, CheekyMonkey101, twilightcullenlove, and Angel Rose. Your words are greatly appreciated, and very heart-warming. Thank you._

And thank YOU for reading!


	11. The Smile of A Gentleman (Part 2)

_Chapter Eleven: The Smile of a Gentleman (Part 2)_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, May 1921_

_Esme_

* * *

_The Fourth Smile: The Twelfth Day_

_April 28th 1921_

_I was standing with my back pressed gently against the wall at the end of the hall, near Edward's bedroom gazing at a painting that hung there. It was the only painting in the house, aside from one that Carlisle particularly favoured in his study._

_This oil on canvas painting was of a rainy day in a place for which I had no name. The artist neglected to leave any mention of a title to the rather beautiful piece. My heart throbbed painfully at the thought of such abandonment. Every painting, in my humbly yet honest opinion, deserved equally beautiful words to have as a name._

_I heard quiet footsteps downstairs, signalling the end of Carlisle and Edward's half conversation that I paid no mind to, on the basis that should my opinion or ears be required, they would ask for my presence in the little sitting room I was slowly getting used to._

_In my previous life, the sitting room was always Charles' room. I scarcely ever entered unless it was requested, and other than that only ever to clean, but even then I did so rather cautiously. It was a silly fear to harbour, I understood that, but my stomach always curled upon entering any sitting room, no matter whom it was occupied by. _

_I had been making an effort lately, not to lose myself in my thoughts, and dedicate more of the expanse of my vampire brain to being aware of my surroundings. After all, what was the use of daydreaming, when all your daydreams were present in real life?_

_One of those said daydreams was walking up the stairs to find me then, leaving Edward behind in the little sitting room. Edward had not gone into town that day, he hadn't had a class to attend, so he was spending his time with his beloved piano, and his beloved father, although he was somewhat reluctant to admit the depth of love he felt for the latter, but he couldn't hide it from me, no matter quite how hard he tried. _

_I was looking Carlisle's way when he rounded the corner. He grinned._

"_You heard me coming this time?"_

_I let out a laugh and looked away bashfully, "I'm getting better everyday."_

"_You really are," he murmured tenderly._

_I let my eyes rest back upon the painting I had been staring at, but a corner of my mind was very aware of his actions. I never wanted to miss a single thing that Carlisle did._

_He leaned up against the wall beside me, and moved his tender eyes from my face to the painting that held a fraction of my attention._

"_You like it?" He murmured._

_I cocked my head to the side, hoping I could think up an intelligent reply, but all I came out with was "Yes."_

"_Me too," he murmured._

_It was one of the most beautiful moments I had ever found myself being in, leaning up against that wall with him, Edward's slow and delicate music complimenting that rain that fell upon the roof, as we gazed upon a painting of a lonely man waking down a foreign street._

"_But in the very same moment, I don't like it at all."_

_He turned to me, I noticed out the corner of my eye, and gave me a questioning glance, "You don't?"_

_I shook my head; "It makes me sad, but happy at the very same time."_

"_Why?"_

"_Because he's alone in the cold in a big city."_

_He looked back to the painting, and reconsidered it for a moment, "He is. I suppose it makes me a little sombre too. What about it makes you happy at the same time?"_

_I smiled a small smile, "The thought that he mightn't always be alone. There is hope for the future. We only see the back of his head here, we don't know what his facial expression is like, he could be happy. He could be smiling at the thought of going home to his family, or he could be happy for a few moments of solitude with the rain in a city he loves. What makes me happy is the possibilities, there are so very many. It is has been an aim of mine to always seek out hope in the most hopeless of times. I suppose through that I can better see outside the box now."_

_Carlisle gazed at me with an expression that almost resembled awe, it looked so strange in his eyes, for I was sure that was the expression I always looked at _him_ with. _

"_Do you like art?" He murmured softly._

_I nodded, "I think so."_

_He grinned, "Have you ever investigated the spare room?" He nodded to the door nearby._

_I shook my head._

_He laughed, "I'm almost surprised, I thought your curiosity would bring you into every room in the house."_

_I shrugged, "I only venture into those that Edward showed me into."_

_Carlisle nodded in understanding; "You are welcome in every single room of the house."_

_I looked away from him bashfully, "Thank you."_

_He grinned, "Now I guess I have something to show you."_

_He held out his hand, which I took eagerly, and then he smiled widely and led me to the closed door to our left._

_He stopped at the door and turned around to share his grin with me once again, and his eyes never left my face as he gently turned the door handle with his free hand, and welcomed me into his own little private museum._

_When we made it to the center of the little room, I let go of his hand to twirl around the room in a dazed state of wonder, letting my eyes drown in the many, many paintings that lined the walls. Oh, how it was so breathtakingly beautiful, every single scene that adorned those walls. I could have spent hours upon hours in that little room taking in every single inch of every single painting, and I would, because I had the time._

"_Oh, Carlisle, it's wonderful." I whispered breathlessly._

_He grinned in wonder as he watched me turn around on the spot in the middle of the room, Edward's music still playing gently in the background. _

"_I thought you might like it, I have found over the years that I'm partial to a good painting, so I've become a little bit of a collector."_

"_You have the most beautiful collection, they're all so lovely, and different, but they compliment each other in the room, it's beautiful."_

_That was when my eyes fell upon the curtains, hanging in the small windows. They were an offensive shade of red._

_He noticed my sudden halt in wonder._

"_What is it?" He murmured._

"_The curtains," I spoke flatly, "They're beautifully hideous."_

_So on the twelfth day, it was the fourth time, Carlisle gave me _that _smile._

"_You're more than welcome to use them as hair ribbons, little apple."_

* * *

_The Fifth Smile: The Fifteenth Day_

_May 1st 1921_

_The boys and I went out hunting on the fifteenth day of my new life, we only went out the back of the house, as we always did, and we were only on the lookout for deer, as we always were. They promised me that one of these days when Carlisle had more than one day off, we'd drive up to Canada and try to find some carnivores, which – I was told – tasted better. _

_I looked forward to that day immensely. Not for the hunt, but for the opportunity to see a new place. There were so many places I had read about in Carlisle's books, which sounded awe-inspiring and captivating, and I wanted so very much with all of my heart to see them, to feel them, to love them. I mentioned this to Carlisle one time, and his face broke into what was almost a loving smile, before he promised that someday we could see them all. We had eternity after all._

_I always seemed to drink less than both Carlisle and Edward, so I had finished hunting before them, leaving me more time to stand and marvel at how well they did it._

_They were both very elegant hunters, lethal, but utterly beautiful, all the same. I hoped that one day I would hunt as they did, without spilling such a mess upon my clothes. Thankfully I was getting more of a handle on my strength by then, and rarely ever ripped my clothes when I washed them. I never wore Carlisle's shirt when I went hunting, I was saving that for when I wasn't quite so messy. I didn't want to ruin it; I wouldn't get another one again._

_I sighed as they drained their kill, and began to bury it. Then, in a bout of mischief, I decided to climb a tree._

_I let out a giggle as I jumped onto one of the low branches, then another as I climbed higher._

_I heard the two men below laughing along with my giggles, and it was a beautiful moment._

"_Miss Platt?" Carlisle called after a short time, "I hate to spoil your fun, but we'd really best be off now."_

_I jumped down to the lowest branches (I was still disguised by leaves), and wrapped my legs around the wood. Then, hanging from my legs I dangled down from my branch near where he was standing._

_He looked surprised to see me in such a way, so I gave him my best goofy smile, "Good morning, Sir Isaac."_

_I got the fifth one of _those_ smiles on that, the fifteenth, day._

"_Good morning, little apple. Be careful, you might fall."_

_I shrugged, "That's what I'm supposed to do, remember?"_

_He laughed with such fondness, as he shook his beautiful head._

* * *

_The Sixth Smile: The Nineteenth Day_

_May 5th 1921_

_I was waltzing around my bedroom to one of Edward's soft melodies, my nose buried in the newest book I had found in my cold little fingers, when I heard Carlisle's car driving along the driveway. It had grown to become one of the noises that I treasured the very most, in my new life, for Carlisle had grown to become the very best friend that I had ever been blessed with. He was perfect in every way, as far as I was concerned. He listened attentively, only offered advice when it was wanted, he talked when I didn't feel like doing so, and he knew when silence would fit the scene better than words ever could. I accredited that to his nearing three hundred years of living, surely by now he could read people as easy as though they themselves were ink on paper. _

_I heard the car stop, and the door open, Carlisle got out, and shut the door, then he opened another. He lifted something that was rather heavy, and he then shut the door once more. I listened as he shut the door of the outhouse they used as a garage, and made his way across the lawn to the house._

_I always wanted to be downstairs to greet him when he got home from a long day of work, but that was a wife's job, and I was just his friend, I didn't want to overstep my boundaries in such a way._

_So I kept waltzing around the room, my curtain hair ribbon dancing with me, and my nose in between the pages of the book in my hands._

_I heard Edward's reply greeting to Carlisle's unspoken one, and then the doctor's soft feet upon the staircase. I stopped my waltzing, wondering if he was coming to see me, and gazed expectantly at the open doorway._

_His hair was damp and messy from the wind and slight rain outside, but he looked as beautiful as he always did. _

"_Good morning," he murmured._

_I smiled, lost in his golden irises I had dreamed about so often as a human, "Good morning. How was your shift?"_

_He grinned, "Much the same as it always is."_

_I laughed, "No young tree climbers?"_

_He sighed, "Unfortunately not, but at least I have you to come home to."_

_I grinned widely, "You do."_

_He laughed, "I bought you home some new books from the library."_

_Ah, so that what the heavy thing he removed from the car as I was listening. _

_My eyes dropped from his golden irises to the pile of books in his hands, and my mouth dropped, "Carlisle! What are you trying to do to me? You're bloating me with books!"_

_He laughed freely and passionately, which made me think he was so very glad to be home, and that was my most favourite time he had given me _that _smile, the sixth time, because he laughed all the while._

"_I'm not entirely sure quite how to respond to that."_

_I grinned and let out a little giggle, "Nor am I."_

_So he gave me the books and left, all while still smiling _that _smile._

* * *

_The Seventh Smile: The Twenty-Second Day_

_May 8th 1921_

_We three were in the outhouse they used as a garage. It was filled with broken things and odd bails of hay. It somehow reminded me of the barn I used to play in as a child. Not that I was allowed to play in it, exactly, but what my parents didn't know, wouldn't hurt them._

_Carlisle and Edward were standing over the car's engine, speaking in a tongue that didn't register in my brain as any language I knew, but Edward had assured me was actually a type of English called, 'Car Speak.' I wasn't fully aware that cars _could _speak._

_Edward had laughed at that thought._

_I had no interest whatsoever in what was underneath the hood of that car, so instead, I explored the spacious room, wondering what all of the broken things were._

_I was wearing a light pink dress Carlisle had surprised me with, to match my pink hair ribbon. It fell to just beneath my knees, the shortest dress I owned, and it was very girly, but it was my favourite. So all in all, I was feeling very young and adventurous._

_It was in the corner of the room when I had first heard them, their little scurrying noises and soft little breath. I was fully aware that any form of animal would never come to our little house, because they knew to fear the scent they smelled, as it was a telltale sign of the apex predator. However, I knew that my senses were not deceiving me._

_So I climbed my way into the high beams that lay exposed in the ceiling, and I walked along them as balancing beams. I heard Carlisle's soft laughter, so I shot him a grin, and then moved down so I was sitting on my knees. Sure as anything I had ever seen, half-hidden in a stack of hay, was a little family of five mice. _

_I heard Edward let out an incredulous laugh as my little heart soared. I turned around to see the boys, Edward shaking his head, wearing a smile, and pinching the bridge of his nose, and Carlisle looking at him baffled._

_He looked up to me, and I grinned, beckoning him over to join me._

_He put down the dirty cloth he held in his oil stained hands, and then climbed up to join me on the beams. He wore a white shirt with rolled up sleeves, and a brown waistcoat that matched his brown trousers, with a black wristwatch on his left arm. His blonde hair was dishevelled, making him look even more handsome than usual._

_He climbed over to where I was, and I made room for him to perch beside me on the beam so he could see. We were so very close. I pointed down to the little family of mice that nestled in the hay. _

_He laughed quietly in incredulity when his eyes fell upon the lovely little scene._

"_Perhaps they have an impaired sense of smell and fear?" I whispered as low as I could. "If not that, then I think their brains are broken."_

_He turned to look at me then, and he favoured me with _that _smile, which was even more beautiful up so close._

* * *

That left the eighth smile, which happened that day. My someday.

"Okay, Esme, you agree with Carlisle, or should I say, _father_, but why?" Edward challenged as we sat by the firelight, debate not yet forgotten by the lawyer's son.

I sighed, "Why continue the war? It ended in 1918, did it not? When Germany signed the armistice? So why should we carry it on, last to join and last to leave? What exactly are we fighting for now that our soldiers are home? What good do these lingering thoughts of glory and justice do to us? Who are we fighting, Edward, and what for?"

"We're fighting for a free world, a world that is peaceful."

"So we bring about that world in the very opposite way? When a war begins, when does a war really end? Once it is done we are left in that very mindset, so we bring the war home with us, and what good does that do?"

"We need to make the opponents realize that they will not achieve their intended goal by the means they seek to do it by."

"And why is that? Because we will beat them at every single turn, by doing what they intended us to do? The aim of a war is to win, yes? But what constitutes winning? Is the loser only he who relents? A war will always end that way, with bloodshed and lives lost. Have you ever stopped to consider that perhaps that is the very thing those who began the war wanted to achieve? So we retaliate, and we ruin ourselves, we may appear strong and formidable, but at the end of the day when we arrive home, we are so broken, so very broken, we can not shake it off of our shoulders, and those who began the fighting in the first place have achieved their goal. To wound us in a way we didn't understand, because war was seen with glory and valour, but it should not be so, because no one dines fine in the trenches, and no one dies fine in the battle field."

"So we pull out now and wait for the next round, that's what you propose?" He shook his head.

"Yes. We recuperate. We gather our spirits and we raise them high, we remember those we loved and lost, then God forbid there be a next time, but if there is, next time we walk into it strong, as a united front, and perhaps it doesn't last as long, perhaps there is finality to it, and perhaps we win again, because we took time out to breathe and to live, and to be okay again."

Edward looked up at me, in a curious little way, and Carlisle sat back down in his seat by my side.

Edward's eyes flicked to him for a moment, "Of course, you know, I agree completely," Carlisle murmured.

Edward groaned, and his head fell in his hands.

I cocked my head to the side, wondering what had him upset.

"For the rest of eternity," his voice was muffled by his palms, "This is how it's going to be, you two will always side with each other and win."

I looked to Carlisle who looked to me, and for the second time that one day, on my someday, he gave me _that _smile.

All the while, he leaned closer to me, and murmured ever so softly, but in a voice so filled with glee, "For the first time ever, he just admitted that someone else won."

So I gave him back my very own version of _that _smile.


	12. The Choices We Make

_Chapter Twelve: The Choices We Make_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, May 1921_

_Carlisle_

"Mr. Thomas, would you say your stomach pains have increased or decreased in the passed seven days?"

The gruff man cleared his throat while he decided upon a truthful answer, "Decreased, I'd say."

I nodded thoughtfully and wrote a note on the form in my hands.

"And in this passed week have you been experiencing a decreased amount of nausea and vomiting?"

He nodded, "Yes."

I pursed my lips and nodded, taking more notes.

"Have you changed anything else in your diet, other than the medication we have prescribed?"

He shook his head, "No."

I tried to repress a smile at the gruff Mr. Thomas; he was an elderly man who didn't particularly want to be old just quite yet.

I knew from his test results that his stomach cramps would not have decreased in the passed seven days, and he would most certainly not be experiencing any less discomfort. I also knew that his wife was a harsh and belittling woman, and his son was threatening to have him admitted into a home.

I looked to Mrs. Thomas, and gave her one of my nicest smiles, inwardly cringing at my improper use of my vampire charm, she blushed and averted my eyes, "Mrs. Thomas," I murmured, "May I have a word alone with your husband?"

More blood pumped to her face as she nodded. The added blood bothered me none, however had Edward or Esme been present they would have found the extra temptation too much to resist.

As a general rule, I forbade myself from thinking about Esme as I worked; she was far too much of a distraction. It was a difficult feat, one of the hardest that I had ever encountered, but I had two and a half centuries of self-restraint under my belt. The only difference between resisting what I was, and resisting the thought of the peculiar creature I shared a home with, was that I didn't want to be a monster, but I _did_ want to think of her. Every minute of every hour of every day, and I just didn't understand why.

Mr. Thomas cleared his throat, "Uh, Doctor Cullen?"

I looked to him confused, "Yes?"

He looked embarrassed, "I'm sorry, did I break a train of thought?"

Now it was my turn to look embarrassed, "Oh, sorry. As I was going to say - "

"'Ave you got a wife, Doctor Cullen? You don' wear a ring."

"Oh no, I'm not married."

"You got a fiancée then?"

"No."

"A girl you're courting?"

I shook my head, "No."

He sighed, "I do apologise, I just fin' it 'ard to think you were dreaming about a new article on how hearts beat or something. You had that look in your eye, you know? That look a fellow gets when 'e's got a girl on 'is mind. I never got that look in my eye with my wife. But I s'pose you can tell that jus' by looking at us," he let out an unhappy laugh.

"Mr. Thomas, about your stomach pains," I began.

"Yeah, yeah, I know you know I'm lying. It's all worse, you know. But I aint never tellin' her that. An' I don' much fancy tellin' me son either. 'e wants me gone ten years ago."

I sighed, "I don't think it's serious, but we do need to change your medication. Now, I know Dr. Fellows prescribed only aspirin, but I'd like to recommend something new for you to try."

"I'll try any'ing if we don' tell me wife an' son, yeah?"

I nodded, "Agreed."

I wrote out the prescription, and handed it to him.

"You find yourself a girl you love, Doctor Cullen, you don' deserve a life filled with un'appiness. Not a good man like you. I'm surprised you don' have all the women 'ere in love with you." He caught the look on my face, "Oh, ya do. None of them your type then? Well find her Doctor, and find her as soon as you can. Don't be alone for the rest of ya life."

I thanked him bashfully, and bowed out as soon as I could. Having received many talks like the one he had just given me, I knew where they were headed and it was not a place I liked to be.

The only difference between the talk I had just shared with him, and all of the others I had heard given to me over the years, was that for the very first time he was completely right. My eyes _were_ all fogged over because of a woman, and not because of a new article about the way that hearts beat or something.

As I walked from the room I reminded myself of the rule I had made about Esme. Not at the hospital. Don't get distracted. So I attended the rest of my rounds repeating that mantra in my head. It was harder than I would like to admit.

So by the time my shift ended I was completely positive I had just endured the longest night of my eternal life, trying not to think about Esme.

I walked to the car, and started the engine, not fully aware of what I was doing, because I was wondering what _she_ was doing. Was she waiting for me to get home like Edward always seemed to think she was? And how did I really actually feel about that? I didn't want her to wait for me forever.

_I_ wanted to wait for _her_.

Somehow I found myself driving along the empty road out of Ashland town, towards my home. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a beautiful array of colours on the clouds. Esme would love this sunrise. She loved every sunrise, but I was sure that she'd love this sunrise most of all.

There I was again! Thinking about Esme.

I shook my head and sighed in resignment, I needed to pull over to clear my thoughts before I arrived home.

I pulled onto the grass beside the road, and let my head fall against the steering wheel. What on Earth had come over me lately? I barely even recognised myself. I was like a completely different man! But that couldn't happen, as a vampire I was frozen forever the way I was when I was turned, the only other possible time one could ever be changed was when they met their mate, but that hadn't happened to… me…

Oh.

Oh!

_Oh._

Esme.

I expected to feel confused, maybe even a little relieved, but all I could feel was glee. She had altered me. Changed me beyond recognition, even Edward had noticed how different I had been acting lately. Could he have possibly put two and two together before I did? Yes. Yes he could have and yes, yes he did. He knew I was in love with Esme, even before I had realised the fact.

But how?

I had known the woman for all of a month, could I really fall in love with her that quickly?

Perhaps the truth really was that I had fallen in love with her after half an hour on that day in 1911, when she called herself an apple and me a genius, and perhaps that is why I changed her.

No, that was not the truth. I didn't love her back in Columbus; I didn't know what love was. True, there was something… something about her that did something to me. She was so lively, so vivacious, so refreshing and honest, something about that spoke to my soul. She was so inherently _good_. But I did not change her to be my wife or mate; I changed her because I couldn't let her die. Yes, I had let many people before her die, but …_ not her._

I changed her because she had too much light and life. But now I did love her, because there was no way that I could not. She was so warm and caring and trusting and open, and I had let my soul listen that sweet voice of her own, and I had fallen in love with what it was saying. That's how we were bound. Our souls spoke to each other in their own little whispers that only they could understand. In Esme Anne Platt, my woodland fairy, my little apple, I had found a kindred spirit, and then I had fallen in love with her.

Of course, her beauty didn't discourage by feelings…

But they were more than just physical attraction, my feelings were pure of heart with true intent and that is why I decided, in the front seat of the car, that was idling on the side of the road, that I would wait for her newborn year to come to an end and then I would see how things came to a head, after all she may be in love with Edward!

Cringing at the thought but satisfied with my new resolve, I straightened myself and returned to the road that would lead me home.

Edward, as usual, was at the piano, and Esme, I assumed was upstairs. I closed the garage door with the car safely inside and headed towards the house, complementing Edward on his new composition.

_Good morning Edward, that is a very nice piece. Did you write it?_

He nodded when he knew I could see him.

_Is Esme upstairs?_

He shook his head and gestured to the study, not once taking his hands off of the keys.

_I trust you had a nice night?_

"Yes," he murmured over the music, "I have been teaching Esme chess, but I'm not entirely convinced that she has been enjoying it, no matter what she says or thinks… or tries not to think, for that matter."

I chuckled as I heard a gentle sigh from the other room.

"It's not fair when your opponent can read your mind, remember?" I teased.

Edward chuckled, "I'm not complaining."

I shook my head and moved into the study, only slightly surprised to see that the beautiful creature was sitting on the floor.

I grinned to myself.

"Good morning, Esme." I murmured as I walked to my desk, opening my newest journal as I sat down.

"Good morning," she said as she smiled up at me, "Did you have a pleasant shift?"

I nodded, "I did. Did you see the sunrise this morning? It was rather spectacular."

She grinned, "I did. There were so many colours, I wanted to frame it and hang it on the wall."

I chuckled, "Such a pleasant painting that would be. Have you ever tried painting before?"

She shook her head, absently running her hand over the pages in front of her, "I don't think so. Perhaps I might like to try it someday."

I grinned, "I don't mind getting some supplies from town, if you would like?"

She pursed her lips and considered it, "I'm not sure what I'd paint. Perhaps I should begin drawing first?"

I nodded, slightly disappointed that I did not have an excuse to buy her anything, "A very good idea."

She smiled at me, then turned back to her book, her face shining orange in the firelight.

_The firelight._

Panic shot through me.

"Did you make that fire, Esme?"

She looked to me surprise, a slight hint of annoyance clouding her eyes. Could she sense my worry?

"No. Edward wouldn't allow me to. I couldn't quite understand why. It's not as though I could burn myself."

I stood up from my seat, drowning in relief, and carried my book to her side, where I slowly sat down, her eyes never leaving me once.

"Actually, fire is the only way to kill a vampire."

She looked surprised, "Is it really?"

I nodded, "I believe that is why Edward was uncomfortable with letting you light the fire. Of course, the probability of you hurting yourself is much closer to zero than it is to one, but - "

"But the two of you are gentlemen and it's not right to let a lady light a fire?" She smiled softly.

I nodded, "Yes."

She let out a bashful laugh and looked to the floor, "Then I must thank you for your kindness."

I smiled and reopened the cover of my medical journal, "You are always welcome."

We sat in silence for a while, listening to the fire crackle and the gentle piano music as well as the quiet turning of our pages.

"Are you enjoying the works of Mr. Poe?" I queried after some time.

She looked up to me and grinned, nodding her head, "Very much so. And you, your new journal?"

I grinned, "Indeed, would you like to read it once I am done?" I teased.

She laughed and shook her head, "No thank you. I think I'll stick with Edgar."

I nodded, "Fair enough."

She looked at me curiously then, so I smiled encouragingly back at her, wondering what question would roll off of her lips next.

"What was it about medicine that made you become a doctor?"

Despite her question being one that I had received many times over my career, I knew her innocently curious eyes demanded a more honest and thoughtful response than I had ever given. It was surprisingly easy to bare my soul to her.

"At first I studied it because the human biology classes that I had previously undertaken had interested me more than anything else, but when I studied medicine, in a way I just knew it was meant to be, it all just made sense.  
"The content itself came easy to me, it was almost like second nature, and the thought of having eternity to help people was thoroughly enticing. It almost seemed to good to be true, that I could be a demon who helped people and enjoyed it as well. I didn't understand it for a while." I murmured.

She cocked her head to the side, "But surely there is the possibility that this was God's plan for you all along? That perhaps it _doesn't _matter what you are, but instead who you decide to be?"

I gave her a confused smile, "I didn't think that you believed in God?"

"I don't," she murmured, looking almost ashamed, "But you do."

I nodded, "I do."

She shrugged, "Then it doesn't matter what I believe for my life, but God is in your life and I won't deny that."

I looked at her curiously, marvelling at the splendid mind she had sitting in her skull.

Suddenly, her eyes looked back to the floor, "I'm sorry. I just realised… I didn't think… I apologise…"

Baffled, I gave her a confused look, "Esme, what on Earth are you apologising for?"

"Speaking out of turn where I have no place."

Her eyes remained fixed to the floor, refusing to meet mine.

Gently, I placed a finger beneath her chin and lifted her face so her eyes would finally meet mine again. They were filled with shame.

"Oh my sweet little Esme, you've done nothing of the sort. In fact, I find your words most comforting. It warms my heart that you think in such a way, for not many people in today's society would share your loving views."

Something in her eyes caused my stomach to lurch, I realised only then that in my haste to comfort her I had resorted to acting in such a way that betrayed my nearing three hundred years of life, instead of acting the twenty-three I was eternally stuck at.

I closed my eyes and swallowed hard, wishing away the butterflies in my stomach, "Esme," I murmured, my voice rougher than before, "Thank you. I… It means a lot to me that you think that way."

I opened my eyes to see her staring curiously at me.

I nervously waited, wondering how she would react to my elderly words.

Her eyes danced with an almost amused light, "You've never spoken to me like that before."

It was my turn then, to look at the floor in embarrassment, "I do apologise."

"Why?" Her voice was boldly curious, yet somewhat confused.

Her question baffled me. Why _was_ I sorry?

I sighed, still not meeting her eyes. My hands fumbled with the corners of the pages in front of me, "For speaking as though I was your grandfather."

She startled me by laughing.

I looked up to her then. She was looking at the fire, her body shaking with warm laughter.

"Oh Carlisle," She turned back to face me with such love and tenderness alight in her eyes, "I could never think of you as my grandfather. Not ever! I hope you are aware, that in one way, I am actually older than you."

Still not sharing her jubilant mood, I didn't reply.

She didn't speak again until her laughter had sobered, and when she did, she reached her hand up to gently cradle my cheek.

Her touch was ever so gentle and sudden, and in my mind everything changed. All of a sudden I was hyper aware of the curtains blocking the light from the window, of the gentle crackling of the fire, the absence of Edward's piano music, and the gentle tingling in my cheek where her skin touched mine. I think she was aware of it too, for a brief moment confusion flickered in her eyes. Did she too feel the tingling all over her body? Was she too plagued by masses of butterflies in her stomach? Did she want to kiss me as much I as I wanted to kiss her?

Was I the only one in that rapidly heating room who was drowning in such confusion? My feelings were everywhere, and almost impossible to understand. I could not comprehend how one moment I was feeling slightly dismayed and the very next I was struggling to keep myself from pressing my lips to hers, and whispering such sweet words of love and adoration into her delicate ear as I moved on to take her as my mate.

Oh sweet Lord, I couldn't think of _that_ right now. I could _not _think of Esme like that now, but I couldn't help it.

I almost groaned.

It was like being a newborn all over again.

It was then that I realised she _was_ still a newborn, and I remembered that what she needed was more important.

I took a deep breath and smiled at her, "Yes, you're three years my senior now, Miss Platt."

Her eyes were distant as they looked at me, and slowly she removed her hand, not saying a word.

I smiled at her and stood slowly, "I think we need to let in some light," I murmured as I walked to the windows and drew back the curtains.

The buzzing in the room disappeared with the dark, and I breathed an almost inaudible sigh of relief.

I had to put Esme's needs before my own desires.

I turned to face her then, she was closing the cover if her book, "Where's Edward?" she murmured as she stood.

"I'm not sure," I replied quietly, my heart longing to ask her to stay.

She nodded and gave me a small smile, the kind that made her dimples pinch her cheeks more than anything else, and made her way out of the room, our conversation not quite finished.

There was a part of me, an irrational part, which was unbelievably difficult to refuse that demanded I follow after her, just to see her, to hold her hand, to feel those sparks again. Resisting her was harder than resisting blood. But I did not go.

I needed time to sort my thoughts. Having spent nearly three hundred years as a man I thought I knew well, only to discover that now, because of her, I was someone else, it was understandable that I be utterly confounded.

Was it supposed to be easy to open myself up after two hundred and eighty years alone? Some how it was, but that was a thought that took a lot of getting used to.

I sighed and rubbed my forehead, the brain beneath it was usually so quick to process everything, but this funny little creature had it completely lost. That frightened me, but thrilled me all the same.

My resolve from earlier that morning was stronger then ever. I needed to wait for her, and I needed to give myself some time sort my own self out.

I didn't know if that choice was the right one, but it was the one I made.

* * *

_A.N. My apologies (especially to twilightcullenlove) for the late update. Hope you all enjoy. Happy Easter! x_


	13. Pine Trees and Honesty

_Chapter Thirteen: Pine Trees and Honesty_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, May 1921_

_Esme_

He crouched near the ground, poised to spring. The muscles of his back came together tightly as his entire body tensed before it relaxed when he lunged forward. The buck didn't stand a chance against the superior predator. I sat still in the tree, if he knew I was here, he didn't let on. I held my breath; I wanted to become a part of the forest just to observe his beauty.  
I still marvelled at the way he hunted. He was much cleaner than both Edward and I, managing to take down an animal sometimes double his size without ruffling a single hair. Although, I had noticed his hair always seemed to dangle in his eyes, but he didn't ever seem to mind. His hair wasn't unnaturally wayward like Edward's bronze locks (which did not understand conventional angles), but Carlisle's light golden strands were naturally messy in the way that they effortlessly fell.

He made quick work of the buck, draining it empty almost instantaneously, and I watched from my perch in the tree as he then looked around for me.

His eyes narrowed, "I can smell you, but I can't hear you… or see you. Where are you hiding?" He teased.

I grinned. He'd have to think of checking the trees soon enough.

Indeed, he did. But I was higher than he thought I would be, so his scanning eyes missed me. I couldn't stop the giggle that arose in my throat.

"Higher," I murmured.

His eyes shot to me, and he grinned widely.

"I can promise you won't find anything remotely substantial up there, little apple."

I sighed, I knew that of course, but I did get a good view…

I hadn't hunted yet that day, which worried Carlisle, I could tell. I knew he was wondering why I was yet to make a kill, probably irrationally wondering if I felt ill. The truth was simple, yet stupid; I had gone almost a month since being given Carlisle's shirt to hunt in, acting as though each hunt was something I was unprepared for, so not given the time to change clothes. But he had forewarned me about this hunt, and it would have seemed exceptionally odd of me not to wear it. I was dreading the moment that I ruined it with blood, and although I knew it had to come, I was putting it off for as long as I could.

I clambered down the tree to join him where he stood, very near where he buried his buck.

"Taste good?" I asked, for lack of anything better to say.

He gave a shrug, "I've had better, but I'm not too picky."

I grinned, "No. You're not."

He laughed, "You and Edward on the other hand…"

"I've only ever had deer and a coyote, and that coyote I had was small but so much better than deer."

"True," he nodded then cringed a little, "But I don't like to think of you wrestling a bear."

I cocked my head to the side, "Do they taste good?"

Carlisle nodded.

I grinned mischievously, "Then I need to find me some bear."

He chuckled and shook his head as I sniffed the air. There was a herd of deer half a mile away, wishing it was a bear but slightly grateful it wasn't (I didn't like to think what it's claws would do to my – Carlisle's – shirt), I took off in their direction.

The strangest thing, almost like fate, happened as I was running towards the deer. I caught the scent of a different animal nearly a mile away to the left. It was a carnivore. Grinning, I changed direction. I could have sworn I heard Carlisle groan. I ran with all my newborn speed, and Carlisle was not far behind me. Carlisle said I was quick for a newborn, not as quick as Edward had been, but quicker than he. When Edward had heard that conversation, he had bolted downstairs to discuss hunting formations. I was to stay in the middle of the pack at all times, however should our coven grow any larger – Edward had thrown a pointed and somewhat disapproving look at Carlisle – I was to run behind everyone. "You'll catch up quick," Edward had assured me, "And it's safe there, behind us." I didn't like thinking about why I'd need to be safe.

It took no time at all for me to reach the small stream where the bear was roaming. I wondered how it would be best, to avoid ripping or staining my shirt, only a small part of my brain registered how silly my thoughts were, but I decided to circle around, and attack the bear from the back, killing it before it had the chance to retaliate.

So I ran around the clearing and scaled one of the trees, which I propelled myself off of, over the river and onto the bear's back. I snapped its neck quickly and dug my razor sharp teeth into its furry neck right above its jugular vein.

The veins were the easiest to get at, they were more superficial to the deep arteries, but draining the animal of all its blood was more difficult from a vein, you had to suck harder. Fishing out an artery was messier work, so I ignored the temptation to find the carotid, and settled to the first vessel I found.

I knew Carlisle's eyes were watching me from the trees. I felt oddly self-conscious about that. I hated him seeing me acting like such an animal, even though I knew he would think nothing bad of it (unless he was criticizing my technique, which was doubtful), but it just seemed so awfully unladylike, even for me, the avid tree climber.

Once I had drained the bear, which filled me to the brim and tasted much better than the deer and coyote, I examined my outfit for the inevitable blood smears and tears. I was astounded to discover that there wasn't a single one.

I grinned to myself, my heart filled with glee.

"Very well done," Carlisle murmured, emerging from the trees, "Even Edward isn't that clean of a hunter yet."

I looked up to him to see him smiling proudly down at me; I knew my face must have held somewhat of the same expression.

"I must admit I did wonder why you were climbing the tree at first, but it was a good tactic to come at it from that angle, avoiding the claws."

I giggled as he absently made a claw with his hand. He followed my line of sight and shook his head when he saw his own hand, he let out a low chuckle, "I must admit though, I was rather concerned, you see, to Edward and I, you're far too small to take on bears. I think we'd rather you hunt the mice in the garage."

My eyes widened in shock, "I would never! They are too adorable for words. I hope you and Edward haven't been having late night snacks!"

He grinned, "We wouldn't dream of hurting your little pets."

I groaned, "Something about that smile tells me that I'll never see them again."

He chucked for a little while as I wondered what to do with my bear carcass, "In all seriousness, I would never even think about it."

I shook my head, "But you and I both know, Edward would."

He gave me a half shrug that I took as agreement.

"Would you like me to bury this for you?" He offered.

I nodded, "Yes, please. My skirt is so short, I don't want to ruin these stockings."

His eyes quickly darted to the hem of my dark brown skirt, where it sat just below my knees. I wore his shirt tucked in at the waist, rolled up at the sleeves and my hair in a bun at the back of my head. It wasn't indecent, per say, but my mother would have never approved. In my defence, vampire hunting didn't have a dress code that I had been made aware of.

Carlisle grinned, "You look very nice."

I looked away bashfully, "Shorter skirts are easier to run in," I mumbled.

"As I would imagine, you do very well in those heels. I don't imagine them to be very comfortable." I watched as he reached for the dead bear.

I shrugged, "It's not difficult, I suppose it would be if I were human, but they're the flattest shoe I own."

He looked up at me from his spot on the ground, "I could try to find some that have less of a heel if you would like?"

His eyes almost held a hopeful gleam, I wondered if perhaps he secretly liked buying women's clothes… Or perhaps he liked one of the women that sold him those clothes…?

No, I couldn't think about that.

Instead I thought about all the heels I had broken since becoming a vampire, and nodded, "Perhaps I would break less shoes that way."

He grinned, "I might have to get Edward to have a look for some next time he's in town. I'm not often there while everything is open, and I much prefer being at home when I'm not working."

I nodded, glad that he seemed reluctant to go, which almost threw the unpleasant thought of him courting a human woman, out the window.

"Are you still thirsty?" He asked as he stood up, having rid himself of the bear.

I shook my head, "No, I'm all sloshy."

Carlisle grinned.

"Are you?"

He gave a half nod, "I would be if we could find another bear," he murmured.

"We can have a look?" I offered.

He considered it for a moment, then nodded, "That sounds like fun. Hold your breath if you smell a human, there shouldn't be any out here, but just in case."

I nodded, "You're sure I'll be able to resist?"

He considered it thoughtfully for a moment, "Unless they're bleeding, then yes. You did just drain a bear that was twice, if not three times your size, after all."

I let out a laugh, "Very true."

He grinned, "Let's just run slow, though. We're not in any rush, and I do like these parts of the forest."

I nodded, and then we began to run. Carlisle set the pace, which was unusually slow, but it was nice to see the greens and browns of the woods. I absently wondered how different the forests of England were to the ones I knew.

"Carlisle?" I murmured curiously.

"Yes?" He too sounded curious.

"Are the woods of England similar to these?"

"Yes, they are, I suppose," his tone sounded thoughtful, "Of course, they're green and brown as you would imagine… Well, actually, do you imagine all forests to be green and brown?"

I laughed at his odd question, "Of course I do!"

He chuckled along side me, "I'm almost surprised, I was beginning to think your overactive imagination might have pictured them in various shades of pinks and purples," he teased.

I pretended to be insulted.

He laughed harder at my mock expression of hurt, "In the colours respect," he said once his laughter had subsided, "Then yes, they're the same. The tree species is often different, and so are the animals that live there, but we still have the deer and what not."

"Tasty deer?" I teased.

"Very," he laughed, "Actually I was quite partial to the Scottish deer for some reason."

"Did you try any sheep when you were up there?" I grinned at him.

"Sheep?" His brow furrowed.

"Aren't the Scottish famous for their haggis?"

He chuckled, "They are, but no, I didn't try one… Perhaps next time. Would you like to go to Scotland?"

I nodded, "Very much so. I've wanted to see Great Britain since I read about when I was only young."

He grinned, "I haven't been back to London since I left, but it might be nice to see how she's changed."

"We could all three go, once I've learned to manage my thirst well enough to handle a long boat ride… Or a plane ride. Edward tells me that they're flying more frequently across the Atlantic."

Carlisle laughed, "Yes, Edward is a little over enthused about that, I don't quite think they'll be taking passengers for another two or three decades, and I think you will have mastered your thirst enough to be around humans long before then."

"I'm not entirely sold on the idea of flying… I think I'd rather leave that to the birds."

"Yes, I felt similar about the first automobiles, but change is just another thing we must adjust to in this life."

I let out a laugh, "That's quite ironic, isn't it? Change is a necessary thing for people incapable of it."

Carlisle gave me an odd look; "Edward actually said a very similar thing to me when you were undergoing your transformation."

I shrugged, "He must be rubbing off on me."

Carlisle's eyes looked sad, "I rarely get to see the two of you together. I am glad you get along so well."

"Edward is a good boy, he has a good heart…despite the mood swings that are rather hard to keep up with sometimes."

Carlisle sighed, "I do wish he had have been older when I changed him, sometimes. I can't imagine being stuck in my teens for eternity."

I grinned mischievously, "You're not far out, yourself."

He laughed freely and wildly, "But I _am_ out. Thank you, Lord!"

I let out a small laugh, suddenly reminded of our awkward conversation in the study a few days ago.

Carlisle must have been thinking along the same lines, for his laughter died down very quickly, then tenderly he murmured, "Esme, about what you said the other morning - "

"Please, Carlisle," I almost whimpered, "I _am_ sorry about that."

"That's the problem," he clarified, "I don't want you to be sorry about that."

I looked at him wearing a confused expression, "Why?"

"Because I'm thankful that you said it."

I was dubious, he could tell.

"Honestly," he almost pleaded, "It meant as much to me as when we were sitting on the porch steps… before you broke them," he smirked, "And you told me that you thought I was a good man who made good decisions. In fact it probably even meant more. I very much enjoyed talking to you about my faith. You've no idea how many hours I have spent trying to convince myself that God will forgive me, yet you manage to convince me in a matter of minutes."

I gave him a shrug, "Only because it doesn't make any sense that He would blame you for something that wasn't your sin. You didn't choose to become a vampire, that choice was made for you. You can't be held accountable for that."

His eyes turned suddenly sad, "True, but I did decide to damn yours and Edward's lives."

I stopped running and came to a cold hard stop. Carlisle kept running forward, but then hurried worriedly back once he noticed my absence.

"What's wrong?" His hands fluttered before him, unsure of what to do.

"Don't you dare _ever_ think that you damned my life, Carlisle Cullen. You _saved_ it. Not _damned_ it. All right?" I almost growled.

For a moment he stood there baffled, but then nodded, "All right."

I sighed, "I can tell that doesn't mean you believe me, but at least it means you'll try."

He grinned, "I'll try my very best."

I gave him a shrug, slightly and irrationally angry at him for not understanding, "I suppose, seeing we have eternity, you'll understand someday… Thank you, by the way."

"For what?" he murmured.

I wanted to say, _For damning me to eternity with you. It's the best thing that's ever happened to me. _But I knew it was poor wording. I still couldn't shake the irrational anger that burned in my veins. He couldn't see that I loved him for it… He couldn't see that I loved him at all.

So instead I just said, "For saving my life."

Carlisle's expression turned amused, "You really do see it that way, don't you?"

I nodded.

He sighed, "You _are_ welcome. I suppose if you can support my views on something that you don't believe in, then I can do the same in return."

I gave him a small smile, "I can't imagine how hard it must be for you, after spending so much time alone, to have to deal with people again."

Half of his mouth pulled up into a lopsided grin, "It's a nice challenge for me."

I nodded, "Shall we continue on searching for a bear?"

He gave me a singular nod, so then we fell back into our slow jog.

"Carlisle…" I murmured curiously again.

"Yes…" He replied, teasingly mocking my tone.

I shot him a mock glare, he grinned back, "What did it feel like after you discovered you could live solely on animal blood?"

He looked ahead at the forest thoughtfully, "I think I felt relieved, and a little liberated. So many burdens that I felt weighing on my shoulders had been lifted. I felt like myself again, I was able to think clearly and assess the situation, it was then that I began to feel happy."

"Do you think it was fate, that when you were crazed with thirst a deer just happened to be passing by?"

He considered this, "Yes, perhaps. It may have been a sign from the Lord."

I grinned, "A sign saying 'Go for it, it's all right', perhaps?"

He chuckled, "Perhaps. You know, for an atheist, you have a very good faith in God's goodness."

I chuckled this time, "If a God did exist, I wouldn't believe in any kind of God who would hate His own creation. Hate is such a human emotion. I mean, if the Bible is right, and there is a Heaven and a Hell, and a God and a devil, I'm not even sure that God could actually hate the devil. I just think he'd be disappointed in him, and the only reason he'd not be allowed in Heaven is because God is smart enough to know that you just can't trust some people."

Carlisle gave me a peculiar look.

"Pray tell if I offend you at any point," I mumbled.

His grin widened, "I will, but you haven't. I find your opinions to be most interesting… and very logical."

I laughed, "I've spent my whole life harbouring opinions not worthy of any ears, so I suppose I took that as somewhat of a challenge to cultivate opinions that are hard to refute."

"And in that you have succeeded… But_ I_ always found your opinions interesting. Perhaps that's why I liked you so much back in Ohio, because you weren't afraid to admit that you could think."

I laughed somewhat humourlessly, "It's not a very ladylike thing, sharing ones opinion to a man, let alone a stranger."

"Hmm, then perhaps I prefer unladylike ladies," he mused.

Something about the way he said those words made my stomach come alive with a million butterflies and my heart burn like a fire poker. But confusion flickered in my brain, and apparently on my face… _was he flirting with me?_ Upon catching my expression, his teasing eyes turned wary in an instant, and then he looked away. I could have sworn I heard him sigh.

"I smell bear," he murmured, "Two miles on the left."

Then he darted forward, so I scaled a tree and watched from above, staring at the utter beauty that was he.

* * *

_A.N. Thanks again to my lovely readers and reviewers (CheekyMonkey101, twilightcullenlove, angel rose, AnabelDerFrosch, Littlejackrusselpuppy, Jessica314, Just4me, and my lovely Guest reviewer – Sorry I kept you up so late!) and also those who have favourited/followed lately (love-still-remains, Fangirl8977, LIV .Laugh .Love). Your support is greatly appreciated and marvelled at! Hope you all enjoyed!_


	14. The Beginning of A Long Ride

_Chapter Fourteen: The Beginning of a Long Ride_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, May 1921_

_Edward_

The house was empty when I arrived home from town that morning, but Carlisle had left a note on my piano. _Gone for a walk_. I knew that meant they'd gone out hunting, which I would have figured had he not left a note, but my adoptive father was just that type.

It didn't take long for them to arrive back home. Carlisle was chiding himself for confusing Esme in the forest by flirting with her, and Esme was wondering why he was being so quiet. I groaned inwardly, they were their own worst enemies.

"Good evening!" I murmured from my seat in the sitting room when they came into hearing range.

_Edward! You're home! _Esme was as jubilant as always to see me.

_Hello, Edward._ Carlisle acknowledged me absently. I should have felt offended.

"Did you have a good hunt?" I asked as they came through the door.

They began answering me in their minds, an onslaught of absent comments and detailed recounts.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, "Out loud, please."

_Oh, sorry._ Esme apologised.

Carlisle looked at me blankly.

There was silence.

I blinked twice.

"This is the moment that you say: It went fantastic Edward! We killed animals Edward! And I reply: Oh, that is fantastic! Congratulations! While you were gone I got a transcript of Albert Einstein's New York Lecture on The Theory of Relativity. I thought you might be interested Carlisle? And so you nod, we move into the study and all debate politics and English literature until the long and dreary night, which turns out not to be so long or so dreary, is over." The sarcasm in my voice was almost palpable, but my words get their intended reaction, Carlisle's face lit up.

"Einstein's lecture on The Theory of Relativity?"

I nodded, and picked up the paper I had brought home with me.

He almost ran into the study, I chuckled and Esme watched on fondly at his excitement, but made no move to follow.

"Ladies first," I murmured as I stood up, reminding her that she was welcome in any conversation we held.

She smiled. _Thank you, Edward._

Carlisle had already arranged the room by the time Esme and I entered, and he had begun to light the fire. He left the curtains open, so Esme could watch the sunset she always so greatly adored.

She headed over to the large window immediately, and propped herself up, in her usual but most peculiar way, on the very edge of the window ledge.

She leaned her head back up against the wall and her thoughts were filled with her love of windows. Honestly, that woman loved everything.

I handed the paper to Carlisle, who fell into one of the two armchairs by the fire, and I took the other, leaving the chaise for when Esme joined us.

"Does he discuss both special and general relativity?" Carlisle murmured aloud, mostly to himself.

"Yes."

I was used to Carlisle's mind and mannerisms, I knew that when he was excited about something, which before then had only ever been academic, he became overly talkative. There was no stopping the onslaught of questions that popped out no matter how irrational or unconventional the time was. More often than not those questions were rhetorical, but perhaps that was only because he was so accustomed to being alone.

He devoured the paper before Esme's light blues had turned into soft pinks.

"One of these days you and I _need_ to go to one of his lectures. What a brilliant mind that man has. Absolutely brilliant."

I nodded, "Agreed. I could never tolerate it if you went without me and met him. I am still drowning in envy that Charles Darwin died before my time yet you shared a pint with him… at least pretended to."

Carlisle laughed, "I drank that beer, thank you very much, and every inch of it tasted revolting, may I add."

I couldn't suppress the chuckle that bubbled in my chest.

He was about to make a comment on the famed Einstein equation when he caught sight of Esme in the window.

I had to admit, it _was_ rather a beautiful sight.

She had her back pressed against the wall on one side of the window, and her feet pressing up to the wall on the other. She was letting her caramel curls down from the constricting knot she had tied them in at the nape of her neck, tousling them as they fell over her shoulders and down her chest. The sky had begun to turn a soft shade of pink with a tinge of gold, and she was humming quietly to herself. She liked to hum to herself, we had figured that much out already, but up until that very day she had only ever hummed tuneless songs that were not at all songs, really. However, sitting on that windowsill she did not hum out of contentment as her mind soared millions of miles away, she hummed out of happiness and focussed mostly on the sweet little melody that she was producing.

Her thoughts that did wander to far off lands, were just as beautiful as the sound she was making.

_The setting sun does such strange things to the quickly dying light, it's as though we come and go before the day is night, because night is for the darkness in the corner of our hearts, it's wild and it's crazy and it ignites a spark. So our souls turn into fighters and our dreams turn into gold, we wander passed the point of no return before we're old, the darkness once our enemy, is now our dearest friend, because the darkness grants us freedom, but _it's _not the one to sin._

I realised then that she had been reading Poe's poetry lately. I swore the melody to memory, it was not one I had heard before, promising myself that when I was next alone, I would try it on piano.

Carlisle's face was completely slack as he stared at her bathed in the colours of the dying light.

If I had found the scene beautiful, then there was not a single word to describe how he viewed it.

She was utterly perfect to him; sitting in the window wearing the shirt he gave her. That shirt was the source of so much trouble for Carlisle, he almost regretted letting her keep it. The animalistic part of Carlisle absolutely loved it when she wore that shirt, because he could smell his scent on her. Especially when _she_ embraced the animal inside of _her_ while hunting. The gentlemanly part of Carlisle hated it when she wore that shirt, because it pushed his self-restraint to the very edge of its limits.

He was so very scared to love her, but he loved her so very much.

To him, she was God's work at it's finest, a tribute to His artistic finesse, because she was so _womanly_, she was so feminine but part of her was so wild. She was a walking talking contradiction; she was so many opposites crammed into one beautiful person. But more than he loved the way that her full cheeks hid her high cheekbones and her dimples pinched at the sides, more than he loved her soft caramel curls especially when she let them fly, more than he loved the gentle curves of her slender feminine body, he loved her mind. He loved the way she loved. He was in love with the way she looked at things and thought of things and he was in love with the way that she loved us. _Nobody_ loved _anybody_, like _she_ loved _us_.

She was everything we never thought we'd ever need, and to Carlisle, she was so much more.

I expected Esme to be more dubious about her feelings for Carlisle, because of her past relationship, but she wasn't. She trusted Carlisle implicitly, because she realised that he was the exact opposite of Charles. Perhaps it helped that Carlisle was the man she had dreamed about since she was sixteen, and getting to see him every day for the rest of eternity was a concept that blew her mind. She saw this life not as a burden, but as the most priceless and special gifts she could have ever been given, but only because she got to spend it with him.

It had been just under a week since Carlisle had returned home having realised the true nature of his feelings for Esme and I was already sick of waiting for them to admit the truth to one another. They were grown adults for God's sake! Why did they cling on to the angst?

Carlisle was so confused about his feelings he refused to see that they would all be overcome should he just embrace the dominant emotion in his mind. Love.

So we sat there and watched Esme as she hummed to the sun as it set, and only stopped when the bright yellow orb had sunk beneath the horizon and twilight had begun.

She turned around slowly to look at us, Carlisle got a handle on himself just in time and pretended as though he was still pouring over his paper, which held very little interest to him now.

But _I_ was interested in it.

I sighed, "Esme," I murmured somewhat mischievously.

"Yes?"

"What do you know about Einstein's theory of relativity?"

She stared blankly back at me, and I noticed Carlisle look up to gauge her reaction; in his head he was chiding me for putting her on the spot with such an unordinary question.

Her immediate response in her head was _Nothing. _But then something rather spectacular happened, _No, Esme. Truth. They want to know. You're allowed to think and know whatever you want in this house._

I saw through her eyes, that my expression looked somewhat surprised but delighted. In a small corner of her mind she spent a moment trying to work out how to comb my hair in such a way that it would actually sit straight.

I suppressed a chuckle and ran my fingers through my messy bronze hair, "I like it how it is, thank you very much."

She grinned, "I'll get a comb to it one day."

I rolled my eyes, "I'm sure you will. But Einstein?"

"Oh, no," her eyes gleamed with a mischievous light, "I wouldn't even dream of taming _his_ hair!"

Carlisle and I shared a laugh, "Relativity, Esme!" I reminded.

She sighed, "Well I know that there are two theories, special relativity and general relativity. Special relativity deals with energy, yes? The E equals M C squared equation…? And general relativity deals with space. That's all I know."

Carlisle was pleasantly surprised, as was I, "Impressive."

She laughed, "Well I _was_ a teacher, I do remember that. I taught English and mathematics, and I vaguely remember filling in for the science teacher when he was off. He had a nervous twitch," she smiled fondly as the picture of a skinny man with a shoulder twitch popped into her mind, "He used to bring me gifts as a thank you for filling in, even though I didn't do it for _him…_ But I remember he would talk and talk for what seemed like hours on end about anything and everything he could think of, especially science. We stood there and he talked for so long that I would be so exhausted by the time I arrived home that some nights I would just sit down and rest my swollen feet and forgo cooking dinner for a few hours because I was too tired to get back up."

"Perhaps he fancied you?" I teased.

Carlisle fought very hard to suppressed a growl.

Esme mentally told herself not to laugh, but she couldn't help the giggle that escaped her lips, "He was very sweet, but I do hope not. The thought of someone who talked so much about things that only _he_ was interested would be immensely tiring after some time."

I grinned, "I suppose that throws our impending debate out the window then."

She almost looked insulted, "No, please. There is utterly no way that the two of you could ever bore me." She looked away bashfully, and then murmured, "I adore you both far too much for that to ever happen."

Carlisle's heart soared, I tried my very best not to roll my eyes, "As you know we don't do sentimentality well, but naturally we feel the same about you."

Carlisle gave me a thoughtful look.

"Yes?"

He chuckled, "You do like speaking for me, don't you?"

I nodded with a grin, "I do say the truth, though."

He shook his head fondly, "Indeed you do."

Esme giggled to herself as we began our debate.

I was playing devils advocate, which was a method I devised after nearly three months with Carlisle that derived the most information from his incredible mind.

Esme went back to her quiet humming, watching the scene out the window. She stood up as a deeper twilight settled on the lawn to grab the sketchbook Carlisle had given her a few days ago. She hadn't drawn anything yet, but she was going to start tonight.

I returned my focus to Carlisle, who was trying to explain quantum mechanics to me.

"I wouldn't be surprised if Einstein moved onto that next, trying to tie his own theories with quantum mechanics."

"And what will that achieve?"

He gave an offhanded shrug, "Perhaps it may reveal how the universe began."

Esme's humming stopped abruptly, we both turned to see what happened; only to see her wide eyes starting back at us.

She was pretending to look shocked, "I thought you promised me eternity!"

We cocked our heads to the side in confusion.

"I did…"

"But if the universe has a beginning, that infers that it too must have an end… So you lied!" She couldn't keep the charade up for very long before dissolving into giggles, and shaking her head fondly at Carlisle's alarmed expression.

I rolled my eyes, "We can't be certain that tying the two together would seriously give us answers."

Carlisle turned back to face me wearing a half-dazed look, "No," he murmured, "It's foggy business these sub disciplines of physics. Perhaps that is why I prefer medicine."

"Have you used an X-Ray machine yet?"

His face fell, "Ashland Hospital doesn't even have one. Perhaps we should move to a bigger town next time we're ready to go…" he looked to Esme, "Or the time after."

I chucked, "Yes, I would like that."

It was just coming on dusk; Carlisle reclaimed his seat that he had moved from while explaining some complex physics to my less developed mind, and Esme continued to hum to herself as she sketched on the paper.

I stole a glance at her drawing through her mind, and I was rather surprised.

"Are you sure that you've never drawn before, Esme?"

She laughed, "Stop peeking."

"I'm being completely serious, do you remember having an aptitude for art while you were human?"

She looked at me curiously and ran through her more pleasant memories in her mind, before shaking her head.

"What was that last one?" I asked as I strained to see the blurry memory.

"I can't remember much of it."

She replayed the scene of her mother complementing her with a rare praise.

"_Esme, why can't you be like this more of the time? Why must you insist upon tree climbing and embarrassing dreams of moving to the wilds? This is something ladylike, and you do it very well. If only you could hold a fork like you hold that thing."_

There the memory ended.

"Perhaps you were holding a pencil, or a paintbrush?" I suggested.

Esme shrugged, "I only like that memory because she insults the way I held a fork."

Carlisle's expression was baffled yet amused and I fought that laughter that rose in my throat.

"I would like to see how you held a fork, it does seem to be somewhat of an odd thing for her to mention."

Esme gave a shrug, "I think I protested upon holding it upside down… A fork is shaped somewhat like a shovel, but you don't hold the shovel upside down when you dig a hole…"

Carlisle chuckled fondly at her murmur, and I grinned.

"Since Edward had seen this lovely drawing of yours, may I take a peek also?" Carlisle asked hopefully.

Esme didn't want to show him, she was far too embarrassed by it, so she hugged it closer to her chest, but she also didn't want to offend him, so she murmured, "Once it's done you can, but Edward, stop peeking."

She smiled and shook her head fondly, in a gesture she inherited from the great lengths of time she spent around Carlisle.

"Fine," I grumbled, "But you'll be finished soon by the look of it." I turned back to face Carlisle, "Everyone in class has been talking about a new book lately."

"Does it sound interesting?"

I shook my head, "It's a children's book."

Carlisle's face turned amused, "What is it about?"

"A man who can talk to animals."

"Doctor Doolittle?" Esme murmured from her perch on the window.

"Yes, have you read it?"

She shook her head, "No, but I always wanted to be able to talk to animals."

I laughed, "That's impossible."

She gave me a reproachful look, "Says the mind reader."

I gave her a half-shrug, "Good point."

Carlisle chuckled, "So you still like children's books?"

Esme looked up from her sketch, her eyes sad, "I do," she smiled a small smile, "But only since my son."

"Oh, I'm sorry." He murmured looking down at his knees.

"Oh, no, no," she moved to stand from her perch on the window, "I didn't mean to upset you. I apologise."

He shook his head but didn't look up, "I shouldn't have asked."

She smiled tenderly, "I don't mind, I like to think of him, it makes him seem more real. He was only here for a very short time, sometimes it doesn't even feel like he existed at all, like he was only a dream."

Carlisle looked up to her then, his thoughts were a complex mess of love and adoration, as well as heartbreak and sorrow. All he wanted to do was to wrap her in his arms and hold her for the rest of the night.

He returned her small smile, "Whenever you feel like talking about him, our ears are open."

Her grin widened, "Thank you."

"And if it's any consolation, being eternally stuck at seventeen makes me miss my mom a lot, so I guess you'll always have me clinging onto you like a lost puppy." It was the only way I could think of expressing how I felt about her without the awkwardness of sentimentality.

Her face lit up with sheer delight, and she had to refrain from sprinting over to my spot on the armchair. I was thankful I could read her mind, so I stood up quickly once I realised her intention to suffocate me in a hug.

Inwardly cringing at the onslaught of unintentionally disgruntled thoughts I was sure to receive from Carlisle, I opened my arms when she made it to my side.

"You have no idea how much that means to me, Edward. If I were human I'd be drowning in tears right now."

I laughed, "I'm not sure we'd let you drown."

It was then that I noticed Carlisle's mind was almost void of any words, but it was swelling with pride and love.

_My Family._

I knew he too would be crying if it were at all possible, and I felt bad for expecting him to be jealous of the affection Esme was showing me. He knew she loved me like a son, or younger brother, he just hadn't decided which one it was until then. He was my father and she was my mother, so that made them…

Carlisle caught my eye and apologised, I favoured him with my famous eye roll, at which he grinned.

I could tell from Esme's mind that she never wanted to let go of me, and she also wanted to squeeze me harder than she was already, but she was afraid of her newborn strength.

"Okay, okay, I'm not good with affection, and I almost think that you're seriously considering murdering me with your hugs."

She pulled back a little and giggled, "I won't be a newborn forever."

"True," I nodded, "So then, you'll squeeze so hard you'll hurt yourself."

She gave a half shrug, "I like hugs," despite her words she stood back and out of our embrace, and with a bashful smile at Carlisle – who she wanted to hug as much as he wanted to hug her – she went to retrieve the sketchbook that had fallen to the ground in her haste.

"You know what they say about the artist never being satisfied with their work?" I murmured to Carlisle as I sat.

He nodded.

"That is true of Esme, so I think we need to clarify our definition of the word 'finished,' otherwise you'll never get to look at her drawing."

I heard Esme sigh, and I refrained from chuckling mischievously.

She picked up the sketchbook and brought it with her to the chaise opposite us, I grinned and held out my hand. She pretended to be annoyed but she couldn't hind her fond smile as she handed me the book.

I looked down at it and grinned, she had drawn three stick figures holding hands (one of which had a dress and two curvy lines for hair), with a circle in the top left hand corner.

"You are definitely a talented artist, Esme."

I handed the sketchbook to Carlisle, whose thoughts were eagerly excited. When he caught sight of the drawing, his face took on a confused expression for a fraction of a second before he smiled, chiding me for teasing her in his thoughts.

He opened his mouth, still not sure of what to say to Esme when she burst out into a fit of hysterical giggles.

He looked to her with an amused smile toying with his lips, "What's so funny?"

She shook her head and closed her eyes; fighting to calm the giggles so she could talk, "Just turn the page over."

His eyebrows knitted together in perplexity and he flicked to the previous page, but once he realised the stick figure drawing was only a gimmick, and the real drawing was rather quite the opposite, his face fell slack.

It was terribly obvious that she would have drawn in her previous life, because anyone could tell, upon looking at that piece of paper, that sitting by the firelight in comfortable armchairs, bent over in eagerness, was Carlisle and I.

The sketch bore a stark resemblance to the actual sight.

"Esme, this is incredible," he murmured. He wanted to say _Can I have it?_

She looked down bashfully, and combed her fingers through her light brown locks, "Thank you. I think I must have enjoyed drawing as a human."

"Either that or you have an exceptional gift." He thought both.

"Oh, no." She laughed, "I think a lot of practise must have happened at some point I don't remember."

He shook his head in disagreement but smiled.

"I really must get you some paints, then perhaps we can decorate this old house with your art?"

"But you have a whole room of paintings upstairs?"

He shrugged, "None of them are of the three of us."

She was quiet for a moment, but then nodded in agreement, "I suppose I could try…" she teased coyly.

He chuckled, "Good then."

I cleared my throat, "Well I am ever so glad we got that settled. Now, shall we avoid the impending conversation merely filled with complements and debate instead?"

Carlisle sighed and handed the drawing back to Esme, "Of course," he murmured.

I grinned.

_What has you so eager with anticipation? _Esme wondered at me.

"Authors," I replied simply.

Carlisle looked up in question, "Authors?"

I nodded, "We are going to debate authors."

Esme laughed, "Oh, I don't see this ending well at all."

"And why is that? Because you know that I will probably disagree with everything you say?"

She smiled fondly, "Well yes. I am rather fearful that you will somehow be able to convince me to read books I once had no intention of ever touching."

I grinned, "I highly doubt I'm quite _that _persuasive, and I do not believe our taste in literature varies quite that much. We _are_ rather similar, you know."

She nodded, "That may be so, and I do agree, although I can see one rather large difference."

"And what is that?" I prompted her, Carlisle just as interested as I.

She grinned at the pair of us, noting in her head that we seemed as though we were both caught under her thumb, and I knew it was true. Then she giggled mischievously, "I am far more open minded, Edward."

Carlisle chuckled in agreement, I merely closed my eyes and shook my head feeling somewhat resigned by her truths.

"What authors are we debating?" she queried.

I looked to Carlisle, who was gazing expectantly at me.

I gave him my usual lopsided smile hoping my devilishness shone in my golden eyes, "Emily Bronte and Jane Austen, Mr. Genius and Miss Apple."

Esme grinned widely and shook her head, "You're such an eavesdropper, Edward."

I shrugged innocently, "It's unintentional."

Carlisle laughed, "We are all fully aware that it is not always unintentional."

I grinned, "It has known to have its uses. But this is not our topic. Jane Austen vs. Emily Bronte. Ding ding, let the first round begin."

* * *

_A.N. Thank you again to all my readers, reviewers, followers and all who have favourited so far! I thank you so very much!  
_

_And in reply to Twilightlover2003 - I'm not entirely sure how far the story will go, but we will definitely see a wedding and perhaps some after that. I will dutifully follow wherever inspiration leads :)_

Thank you so much to everyone!


	15. How She Grew Close To Edward

_Chapter Fifteen: How She Grew Close To Edward_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, June 1921_

_Carlisle_

I sat at my desk in the library, content with spending the morning pouring over the manual for the x-ray machine I ordered from New York for Edward and I, when she popped her head around the corner of the doorway.

Her caramel curls where hanging loosely down her shoulders, and her eyes glinted with the humour of her smile.

I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face as I raised my eyebrows without looking up, "Hmm?"

"Are you busy?" Her singsong voice was irresistibly chirpy.

"Extremely," I looked up grinning.

She giggled, "Would you like to go for a walk?"

"In fact I think I would," I put the manual down on my desk, there'd be time for that later, and followed her out of the room.

We made small talk as we navigated our way out of the house and into the lawn. I told her what I had learned about the new machine, and explained how x-rays worked when she commented on how technology baffled her.

I watched as she absently pinned her long curls into a knot at the back of her head.

"Why do you always pin your hair up?" I wondered without thinking.

She looked to me as though I should know the answer, but then smiled, "It's improper for a woman to wear her hair out."

My brow furrowed, "I don't see why."

She laughed awkwardly, but sobered up quickly realising my innocent naivety, "I'm laughing at myself, by the way, not you," she smiled tenderly yet apologetically up at me.

I grinned, "It's your awkward laugh, I can tell."

She nodded, "My mother was so strict on what I was allowed and not allowed to do, I think a part of me is frightened that she'll turn up here and drag me away."

"I'm not sure we'd be able to let her."

She laughed freely that time, "I'm going to let myself believe that's because the two of you couldn't bear to be without me, rather than listen to the pragmatic side of me that is saying it's because of safety."

I gave her an offhanded shrug, "It's a touch of both."

She gave me my favourite toothy grin, "Thank you."

We reached the edge of the forest, "Did you have anywhere special in mind for this walk?" I wondered.

She nodded and grinned with my favourite cheeky glint in her beautiful red eyes, "The trees."

"Of course," I laughed as she scaled the closest trunk, and then I followed after her.

She jumped from tree to tree better than any monkey ever could. She was truly like a warm breeze as she fluttered through the leaves.

She quickly found the tallest tree in the forest and climbed as high as she could without breaking it.

She walked to the end of the branch and sat down, smiling expectantly up at me.

I took my seat with my back against the trunk and grinned back to her, "I hope Edward likes the machine." I murmured.

She laughed, "He's almost as in love with medicine as you are."

I joined in with her laughter, "I do wish I saw you both together more often."

She shook her head fondly; "You want to be in too many places at once. Maybe one day when I can control my thirst better, we could all take a holiday somewhere cold and picturesque."

"Cold and picturesque?"

She shrugged, "I always dreamed of hot and sandy, but cold and picturesque is the next best thing."

My heart panged with guilt, I didn't want her to have to settle for second best, "I think that's a good idea. Perhaps one day we'll figure out how to do the hot and sandy without being noticed – "

"I haven't even seen the prism skin yet."

"You haven't, have you? I'm sure it will be sunny soon. I could take some time off of work one day in the near future, and we could all go up to Canada, there's plenty of cold and picturesque up there."

She gleamed, "That sounds lovely."

"I think one day, especially with the development of air travel, it will be easier to travel everywhere, so perhaps it's not such an unrealistic idea for me to promise to take you everywhere you've ever dreamed of going, and if that place turns out to be continuously sunny, we can always embrace the cloak of darkness and rise at night."

She giggled, "Like _real_ vampires?"

I widened my eyes teasingly, "Are you saying we're _fake_ vampires?"

"Something like that," she smirked, "But it's much better than being monstrous."

I nodded, "I do agree."

"Edward would enjoy that also, I think. Do you?"

I nodded again, "He doesn't talk of it often, but when I have previously mentioned travelling with him, he always seems enthused."

"He wants to go to England."

That surprised me, "He does?"

She nodded, and looked away awkwardly, "I feel guilty telling you, but he never mentioned not to, he only said that he didn't want to bring it up, because you're not overly fond of England. I told him he should tell you, because I didn't think you'd mind… I apologise."

I shook my head, glad she felt comfortable telling me this, "I wouldn't mind at all. I've found that Edward believes his mind reading removes the need for conversation, but perhaps he's too young to realize that conversation isn't a one-way matter, and by neglecting initiating that actual conversation he sidelines his own thoughts and feelings."

"I agree, I've found he prefers talking to me when he can't see my face," she smiled fondly.

I chuckled, "He has quite the personality that boy. How are your chess matches coming along?"

She laughed so much; I was almost expecting her to tear up, no matter how impossible it may be, "I'm miserable at it."

I gave her a half-shrug, "Edward is not the best opponent for a beginner."

"I'd bet my left shoe that neither are you."

I grinned, "I _have _had a lot of practise."

"Then I get to keep my shoe!" She grinned. I watched as her eyes drifted down to my own feet, and then her grin widened. "I've never noticed how big your feet are before," she giggled.

I laughed with her, "Are they really?"

She nodded and pressed one of her dainty feet against mine, hers was nearly half the size of it, "See?"

"Perhaps you just have small feet," I laughed.

She nodded, "I do think that is the case here."

"There's nothing wrong with small feet." I reminded her.

"Nothing wrong indeed, I like them."

"I do too," I grinned as she moved her other foot to press against mine, "They're very endearing."

She gave me a toothy grin.

"So…" I murmured after a short period of silence, "Edward won by a lot?"

Her laughter rocked her whole body; I feared for a moment that she may fall out of the tree, but I could help laughing along with her, "Those first few games were actually rather hilarious."

"Tell me about them?"

She nodded, her face still split into the most beautiful toothy grin.

"But perhaps I'll tell you about the piano first, because that came before the chess…

I was sitting in my bedroom reading _Plantae of the Americas,_ you remember how I wouldn't put that down in my first few days?"

I chuckled and nodded, she laughed with me.

"Yes, well, I was rereading the third paragraph of the sixth page for the fourteenth time that night when Edward began to get frustrated with me.

"'Esme!' He sighed in his exasperated tone, 'You have that passage memorized by now, and so do I, could you please stop reading it?'

"I felt terrible for doing that to him, naturally, but I really liked that passage… I tried to read the next one but I kept repeating the previous one in my head. The next minute the piano music ended abruptly and Edward was standing in the doorway giving me his best disapproving look and holding out his hand.

"'Come on,' he sighed, 'I'll show you something.'

"The way he talked to me, I almost felt like I had been plotting to slaughter the entire population of Ashland. As soon as I thought that, I expected him to be angry, but he was quite the opposite. He does that so often, he can be very unpredictable that boy.

"So he almost doubled over in laughter but he didn't explain exactly why… _You_ know already, I can tell."

I grinned and nodded at a memory from Edward's own newborn years.

"Shall I tell the story anyway? It amuses me."

"Please do," I grinned widely.

"I was so baffled by his laughter, I remained sitting on my bed, so he walked over and took the book out of my hands and then dragged me out of the room. He led me down the stairs and straight to the piano.

"'I'm going to show you a song,' he said, 'Actually, two. The first one is a new Chopin piece I've recently learned, and the second one is my very first composition.'

"Naturally, I was overly excited, so I daftly ignored the fact that a piano bench is made for only one person, but bless his soul, he didn't say anything.

"I always loved listening to the piano, I think I used to play when I was younger, but I daren't touch the thing with all this strength, and I must admit, I'd feel embarrassed stumbling over melodies with Edward listening." She paused, "Edward mentioned that you could play?"

I laughed self-consciously, "Only the very basics."

She smiled tenderly, "For some particular reason I think you're being modest."

We shared a knowing grin.

"Edward started playing this thunderous and overly complicated piece that sounded like it would accompany Edgar Allan Poe's writing quite perfectly, and I was sitting there wondering why he had picked that piece to learn when he played it a little softer and whispered, 'Do you ever feel like running away and living in a cave?'

"You can imagine how confused I was, he was acting most strangely, so I said 'No, not really, Edward.'

"And then he shrugged and said 'Nor me either. It must just have been Carlisle then.'"

She burst into a fit of giggles, and I joined in with my deeper laughter.

"He started retelling the story of you and the cave to me in great detail, and I was still a little confused as to why the particular piano piece accompanied the cave story, so when he finished he looked to me and said with a very straight face, 'And that is how the poor dear felt when he saw God was chasing after him, trying to suck his blood.'"

"Trust Edward to think of something like that to say," I chuckled, and she nodded.

"Then he said to me, 'But it gets better, I composed my first piece about two months into my new life. Carlisle had been discussing Volterra with me, particularly Aro, Caius, Marcus and their wives. He had just finished telling me about Aro's destruction of Dydime when he saw my expression. Suddenly his thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion, he thought perhaps I was worried about finding a mate, or not finding a mate, or meeting the Volturi, or even being killed by them, so I wrote this piece in reply.

"'This is entitled, _No Carlisle, I had actually been plotting to slaughter the entire population of Chicago._'"

She sighed, her beautiful scarlet eyes filled with love and amusement, "Honestly, that piece was more disturbing than what the deer must have felt when God was chasing after him, trying to suck his blood."

I grinned back at her like a schoolboy seeing a beautiful woman for the very first time.

"He spent the rest of the night showing me composition after composition, proudly explaining each one. He reminded me so much of the young children I used to teach, how in the beginning they're shy to show you something, but after a while you can never get them to stop."

I nodded and sighed, "He is awfully young."

"There are younger." She gently reminded me.

"True." I lowered my eyes back to our feet.

"You're too hard on yourself, Carlisle."

I gave a half-hearted shrug, "A fatal flaw."

She laughed, "Out of all the fatal flaws that exist, I think I like yours the best."

I looked up to her then, to see what emotion was dancing with the light in her eyes, but she was staring off into the distance, her expression unreadable.

There was silence for a few moments as I wondered how to reply.

I could have said so many heartfelt things that alluded to the way I felt about her, I could have even told her that I was desperately and eternally in love with her, but instead, as all young people do at one point in their lives, I threw away the moment and changed the subject.

"So the chess matches?" I prompted.

She turned back to face me, her expression still filled with delight, and I fought a sigh of relief.

"It was another case of he being tired of my tiresome thoughts. We were sitting in your library, he reading one of your medical texts and I reading _Annabel-Lee_ for the umpteenth time, and comparing it to _The Raven_, when he sighed in the exasperated way I have come to expect and shut his book.

"'I'm going to teach you how to play chess,' he announced, and then he grabbed the board. So I shut my book and sat down on the ground. He looked amused when he saw me sitting there, but he gave me the board and told me to set it up while he added some more wood to the fire.

"I had never even watched a game of chess before that night, so I had utterly no idea how to set it up, and apparently ancient Italian chess sets don't come with instructions," she gave me a pointed look, so I grinned back, "Edward knew this of course, I think he just wanted to laugh at how miserably I set it up. He's too cheeky for his own good. But I figured most of it out, actually. I put the pawns at the front, because the big people always hide behind the little ones, the rooks at the edges, because they look like castles, and I figured that you always keep your royalty inside the castle walls, the king and queen stand in the middle, naturally, so all that was left were the bishops and the knights. He had sat down by the board then and was watching on, looking as though he was holding in his laughter; I thought I must have really got it wrong.

"I wondered if he'd help me with the last ones, but Edward being Edward, he shook his head and grinned. I always thought he was a gentleman, but he has moments of being such a boy. It's almost as though he hides behind a mature facade because he so desperately wants to be viewed as a man. I suppose that's because of the war.

"So I was left with the bishops and the knights. He laughed because I called the horses in my head."

"But they do look like horses." I interjected.

"Exactly!"

I laughed, "I always find myself calling them horses too, and the rooks, castles. He breaks into a fit of laughter every single time."

She giggled, "I'm glad it's not just me then."

I shook my head, "You don't stand alone."

Her eyes glinted with some mysterious emotion I couldn't quite place, but she continued on with the story anyway.

"I'll admit that one was a guess, but I had a fifty percent chance of getting it right, so I put the bishops next to the royalty and the horses next to the castles, because they seemed more like they belonged with artillery and not the royalty.

"He then started clapping. 'That was very well done!' He said, and I was surprised at his compliment until he started snickering, 'But you got the king and queen mixed up.'

"I was actually quite proud of myself."

I grinned, "I am too."

She laughed, "That was until the game began. He explained the rules and how all of the pieces moved, but the moment he started shifting his pieces I realised he had a plan and I didn't. I was acting completely on a whim, reacting to everything he did. I knew that there was no way I was going to win because he could read my mind and he knew how to play. So he took out every single piece aside from my two knights and my king. Somehow throughout the game I managed to take out all but two of his pawns, a bishop and his king. So he was chasing me around the board with his bishop and trying to sneak his pawns to the end so he could get back his queen when I realised that _I_ had _won_." She stopped telling the story for a while, as she sat there and laughed, I waited eagerly for the rest of the story.

"Beginners luck he'll say, but I moved my knight into check, and the only move he could make was checked by my other knight. I think he was one move away from getting his queen back, but you can just imagine his face. I could see that he was going over every single moved that we had made in his head, looking for the moment that he went wrong, but that doesn't alter the fact that I won. Albeit so that it wasn't from my exceptional skill, but…"

"It was still a win."

"Exactly. So that's my chess strategy from now on, don't have a strategy. I've lost every game since; he demanded a rematch of course. I think I'll always be proud of my accidental win."

I laughed, "Getting a checkmate with two knights is very impressive. It might not have been wholly accidental."

She laughed with me, "Oh, I assure you it was… Like falling out of a tree." She grinned, "But some accidents are good accidents."

I gave her a toothy grin back, "Very good accidents."

"Agreed."

We stayed in the tree for a little while longer, sharing stories about how we grew close to Edward.  
We didn't hunt as we went home that afternoon, for we planned to take Edward out that night, in hopes of finding some carnivores that didn't feel like hibernating, like the two bears we had found not long before.

As we walked through the garden, I gazed at the flowers Edward and I had planted Esme in May when she slipped, they were in full bloom. She had picked most of them and placed them in vases I had found in the garage, and then decorated the house with the different colours and scents.

Oddly, she had left the lilies that I had been so sure she'd like, growing in the garden.

I tried not to think anything of it, but I kept thinking that perhaps I didn't even know her at all. The thought upset me more than it should have, so I focussed on happier things. Like her feet pressed against mine, sitting up in the tree, laughing until we couldn't breathe, listening to her telling stories and shaking her head in fondness – a gesture she had inherited from all the long hours spent with me. I could spend eternity living in that one moment, and _never_ know unhappiness again.

But even those happy thoughts came with unhappy ones on their tail. I could never forget how much I worried for Esme. More than I had ever worried for Edward, and also in a different way. I worried for Edward rationally and paternally, whenever a problem arose. I worried for Esme intensely when it made no sense at all. Every single time I couldn't see her, I was entirely uncomfortable. My discomfort was not entirely born of concern, however, because I longed for her also. I missed her greatly and I felt empty. There was a void in my soul and she fit it completely. So naturally, that worried me too.

We spent the afternoon reading on the back porch near the kitchen, and discussing our favourite stories and poems.

Unsurprisingly Esme loved Edgar Allan Poe's _A Dream Within A Dream_ as well as _Annabel-Lee_, and I loved hearing her read them in her soft murmurs that so easily fell into whispers on the very last lines.

Lord, could I please live everyday listening to her whisper such sweet words to me?

Did I deserve such a heavenly gift? Was I really worthy of the complete happiness I would know should I ever allow myself to know her?  
To really know her.  
To know what she wanted, what she feared and what she dreamed. To know every inch of her brain and body, and to be able to promise that I would love every single piece of her for the rest of the endless eternity that stretched before us.

Could God truly favour me with such a brilliant privilege as that it would be to show her, every day that I should breathe, every day that I should see, or think, or feel, or even merely exist, that she is _loved_, she is _treasured_, and she has worth beyond _all_ measure?

If the answer to that question ever turned out to be affirmative… I should forever be the happiest man to walk God's green Earth, and I would ensure that she would be the happiest woman.

There was no point getting ahead of myself, however.

So I sat there and listened to her soft voice, which was like such sweet music to my old ears, as it weaved it's way in and out of complex sentences, making all the difficulties of the world seem utterly insignificant, until Edward arrived home.

He gave me his famed eye-roll, to which I replied, _It's good to see you too, Edward._

He snickered and gave Esme a hug.

How I loved the sight of my little family.

"Did you both have a good day?" He wondered.

I nodded, trying not to think of Esme's beautiful smile as she jubilantly recounted her chess win.

He sighed exasperatedly and rolled his eyes once again, "I won't let it happen again," he murmured darkly, "I will win."

He stalked off inside to change for our hunt, as Esme and I attempted to muffle our snickers.

"No one likes a bad loser, son." I reminded him.

"Thank you for the advice, _father._"

I grinned at his tone, knowing my teasing had not lessened his affection for me.

Esme and I left our books in the study then returned to the porch to wait for Edward.

He was down in an instant, so together we set off. The sun painted the cloud, which hid it, pretty shades of pink and gold that reflected beautifully in Esme's darkened eyes.

"Esme?" Edward murmured as we walked passed the flower patch.

She looked to him expectantly, "Yes?"

"I'm confused. Whenever you see the lilies growing in the garden, your thoughts are filled with such affection, yet you haven't picked them and placed them in the house."

She didn't reply, her large eyes waited for his question.

"Why?" He asked, obviously baffled.

"I haven't picked them because I love them. They're my most favourite."

We were both silent for a moment as we tried to understand the workings of her mind.

"So _why _don't you pick them if you love them?" Edward asked again.

Esme laughed as she caught sight of both our baffled expressions, "Because flowers live for a longer amount of time in the ground compared to a vase of water. I can see the lilies from my window, and every time I come outside. I don't pick them because I love them and I want to let them live for as long as I can, so I can enjoy them for that much longer."

I grinned, "They're your favourite?" I asked for confirmation before I let my heart soar.

She nodded, "Yes. Definitely."

I gave her another toothy grin, although she probably wondered why, because all my worry was for nothing.  
Somehow... I _did_ know her.

* * *

_A.N. Thanks once again for the reviews, favourites and follows! It means a lot, I hope you all enjoyed!_


	16. You See The World In Colour

_Chapter Sixteen: You See The World In Colour_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, June 1921_

_Esme_

For the very first time, our roles had reversed.

Carlisle sat on the chair next to me, his eyes darting between my face and the object between my fingers, a million questions bubbling at his lips, waiting to be asked, and begging to be answered.

For the very fist time, _he_ was fascinated by _me_.

Carlisle had been late home that morning; I had irrationally begun to worry. His shift ended at eight thirty, and he was supposed to be home by nine. Edward had a class that began at ten o'clock. It was ten to ten and he was annoyed.

"He's got the car! If he's not home soon, I'll have to run into town and say I walked, but people will think it strange I walked this whole way! I can't believe he's so late!"

"You don't think he had an accident?" I fretted.

"No," Edward sighed, "Our reflexes are too quick to allow anything like that to happen. He'll be fine, he's just late. Look, Esme, I'm really sorry, but I _am _going to have to go. I have an exam, I really can't be late for this."

I nodded fearfully, it would be the first time I was alone in the house, "What if a human comes to the house?"

"Hold your breath and hide. Pretend that no one is home."

I nodded again. I knew what to do, we'd been over it a hundred times. Edward placed a hand on my shoulder, so I pulled him in for a hug.

"You'll be fine, mom," he murmured.

I sighed, my heart soared at his words, "Thank you Edward, I love you, have a good day and good luck with your exam. I'm certain you could pass it with your eyes closed."

He grinned, "Thanks, I love you too, mom. He'll be home soon, I promise."

I nodded, fear and dread mixing in my stomach.

Once Edward had left, I walked up the staircase and perched on the very top stair.

It was ten o'clock when I heard Carlisle running toward the house. I couldn't stop the grin that spread across my face as relief calmed the storm in my stomach. I ran down the stairs and opened the door for him when he reached the foot of the porch. He grinned up at me apologetically.

"Esme, I'm so very sorry. I went shopping, but Ashland didn't have what I wanted, so I drove out to Duluth. I forgot about Edward's exam."

"It's all right," I assured him, "I'm only glad that you're okay."

His expression melted into a tender smile, "Of course I am. Did you have a pleasant night?" He asked as I stood back and he walked through the door. I nodded and absentmindedly held my hand out for his medical and shopping bags.

He grinned and handed me his things, "Thank you."

"Hmm?" I looked at him absently and then followed his line of sight to my hands, "Oh," I laughed awkwardly, "It's okay. An automatic response, I think."

He laughed and shrugged out of his coat. "I bought you some paints and art supplies."

I felt my face light up, "Oh, Carlisle! Thank you!"

He grinned as he took back his medical bag, but left the shopping bags in my hands.

"When you decide to paint, do you mind if I watch?" He asked awkwardly, "You can tell from my collection I like art, but I've never been particularly skilled at it myself. I find the more I watch, the more I learn, so perhaps you'd let me pick your brains, for lack of a better saying…"

"Of course!" I grinned, "It'd be my pleasure. If you're not planning on doing anything now, I might set it up? Perhaps in the dining room not used for dining?"

He nodded eagerly, "I'll just put this away, and then I'll meet you in there?"

I returned his eager nod, and then we parted ways.

"Did you meet Edward on the way home?" I asked him as I removed the contents of the bags.

"Yes, I handed over the car and received quite the berating," he laughed from the study.

I giggled, "I'm not surprised at that."

He appeared in the doorway then, his eyes apologetic once again, "I am sorry about leaving you home alone."

I gave him a shrug, "It's all right. I'm just thankful humans don't come out this way too often."

He nodded, "We try to pick houses on the outskirts of town, and then we don't have to be quite so careful about hiding who and what we are. It gets tiresome after a while."

I smiled and took a seat, "I'm glad that Edward and I are here now, so you don't have to hide around _everybody_."

He took the seat next to me and grinned, "Me too."

It didn't take me long to realize that Carlisle was in a very inquisitive mood, a trait I had seen glimpses of before, and knew he must possess because of his chosen discipline, but somehow he had managed to hide it from me until then.  
He asked me question after question after question. It was not something that frustrated me, because it was not something I had ever experienced before. Carlisle – aside from Edward – was the only person to have ever cared about what I thought. I found it simply endearing.

"What do you like about art?" He murmured, as I brushed green onto the canvas.

"I like that it gives me the freedom to express what I'm thinking or feeling or coveting."

"Coveting?" He queried, with one perfect eyebrow raised.

"I covet trees and lakes, and animals and flowers, but I've no right to place a hand on them and call them mine. However, if I paint them, I get to keep them forever, even if in real life they wilt away and die."

He was silent for a moment, thoughtful.

Then the next question came, "What do you feel when you paint?"

"Beauty." I answered definitively.

He gave me a baffled look, "You _feel_ beauty?"

I nodded, "I like the way my eyes feel looking upon beauty, it feels as though they have been bestowed the power to drink it in, and the beauty seeps in to me, in almost an osmotic way. I like to think it's stays and affects my soul, but I know it touches it at least. Forever I am altered by that stray piece of beauty, wondering how in heaven or on Earth, it found its way into creation.  
"All I am, is an insignificant dot in the world's history to all the faceless friends I do not know, I am not a name to be remembered or a soul to be lamented when it's scheduled perish date arrives, but to _me_ I _am_ all of those things. To me, I am all I know, and all I ever will, and something about that is beautiful, something about our human consciousness.  
"Why on Earth should we travel forward in time finding beauty in things that are not constant, like the changing weather, or the rising tide, when we refuse to find beauty in our very own selves? The one thing that we will always know, the one thing that we will always be able to understand, why do we shy away? Why do we doubt the beauty of our existence? For the trees will never care if we call them ugly, and the wind is always unfazed when we curse its name, so why should we – beings of complete consciousness - deny ourselves the beauty of our own souls?  
"I for one, will not.  
"I will let the beauty of the outside world find a home inside my heart, and I will try to show that beauty to the world, but most of all, I will see that beauty, and I will cherish it. Beauty of the soul is a never fading, never aging gift, and I plan to treasure it. When the time comes that I do, I will feel as free as the wayward wind, as beautiful as the wild flowers, and as brilliant as the nourishing rain.  
"And in that very moment, I am a stray autumn leaf gliding through the chilly wind, and I hope never, to ever have to find my feet upon the ground again.  
"That's how painting makes me feel."

His eyes sparkled with the morning light, "The pictures you paint with words are just as beautiful as those you paint with colour."

I laughed self-consciously, "I always feel the urge to be overly open and honest whenever I'm painting."

"Why is that, do you think?"

"Art is about truth and honesty. There's no beauty in a web of lies."

"You could write a novel."

I grinned, "So could you."

"Out of English and Mathematics, what was your favourite subject to teach?" He queried after a short chuckle.

I considered it briefly as I cleaned my brush in the water, and chose a blue to cover the rest of the canvas. "Mathematics."

He was silent for a moment, so I looked up to his face, "Does that surprise you?"

"A little… Yes, it does."

I suppressed a snicker; "I was always good at mathematics because it came easily to me. Numbers always felt like a safe-net of security and familiarity, almost like a home. Whenever words failed, numbers restored my faith in the world, because no matter how uncertain I was of my life, one plus one always equals two."

"Perhaps you could become a mathematician?" He suggested.

I gave a small shrug, "I don't know… I'm not sure I like mathematics _that _much."

"Not enough to become obsessed with it?" He teased.

I shook my head, and then muttered, "You and your medicine."

He chuckled as he toyed with one of the smaller paintbrushes I had yet to use.

"Once the base coat is dry, you could paint something if you like?" I offered.

"Oh no," he shook his head, "I'll just watch. I'm not entirely convinced that medicine and art are two complementary disciplines. If I were in a surgery I very much doubt it'd do much good for me to attempt to recreate the Mona Lisa."

I scrunched up my face at the thought, "I do agree."

"Perhaps I'll leave the painting to you," he grinned and then winked.

He _winked._

It was an incredible sight, Carlisle Cullen winking at me. I felt like a schoolgirl who pined over a handsome teacher, and a part of me wasn't even bothered by that. Being in love with him felt so good, even though I wasn't sure if he could ever love me back.

"Is your favourite colour still blue?" He asked as he watched me spread the midnight blue over every remaining white spot.

I nodded, "Yes, is yours?"

He nodded, "It always will be."

I raised an eyebrow, "We won't even ever change our favourite colour?"

He shook his head, his eyes were sad.

I sighed, "At least we both chose the best colour to like for eternity."

He gave me a small smile, "What shade of blue?"

"All shades of blue. Yourself?"

"Every single one of them."

I liked having things in common with him.

"So what is this painting going to be of?" He wondered.

"The forest at midnight." I began to clean my blue brush.

"Is that one of your favourite sights?"

I nodded and picked a dark brown to paint with next, smelling that my green grass was dry. "It is, but not so much for what it looks like, more for what it means. I had never liked night time, because I've found the darker side of everything exposes itself when the daylight stops suppressing it. So night time is often a dangerous time, yet now for me it's not. That feels liberating, because everything I was afraid of in my human life happened when there was no sun in the sky but now that I'm safe here, and I never have to worry about that again, I can appreciate the beauty of the night."

"So you paint it because it reminds you that you're free?"

I nodded again, "I'm free, I'm safe, and… I'm allowed to be happy."

"And I'm glad you are happy," he murmured.

"I really am."

"Perhaps in a few years when you're confident in your ability to manage your thirst, you might like to take classes at the college?" He suggested.

I felt almost as though I would blush, "Oh, I don't know…"

"Why not?" His eyes widened innocently.

"Well… I can't imagine many women would go to college, and I don't want to cause us to stand out any more than necessary."

He shrugged, "Women do go to college, mainly those from wealthy families, but that's you now. It wouldn't look too out of place. We could all go together? Or you and Edward could go together?"

I gave him a coy look, "How many times have you been to university, exactly, Carlisle?"

He looked away uncomfortably, "Quite a great deal many."

"That's nothing to be ashamed to admit," I murmured.

He looked back to me with a question dancing in his eyes.

"It's a very good thing to be passionate about something, especially when that something is constructive and _good._ I've never understood the ideology behind living a life that doesn't contribute to society. Learning does, because it enables you to help people by using your brain to offer up new perspectives and define new things.  
"But I don't understand why people walk so heavily on the ground, as though the world doesn't orbit the sun, but it orbits themselves. The everyday person doesn't live forever, and history teaches us that there are people who have lived before us, and there will be people who live after, so why walk Earth as though it was specifically designed for one person? We shouldn't be leaving behind ruins of wonderful things as we are, but instead building more wonderful things that enable the future civilisations to thrive.  
"You shouldn't be embarrassed by how much you've learned, be proud of it… Even though pride is one of the seven deadly sins… Everything in moderation I suppose."

He gazed at me tenderly, "You see the good in every single thing you look at."

I looked away bashfully, "Not _everything._"

"Most things, perhaps."

I shrugged, "I try my best."

"And you succeed."

I flicked a smile his way, and then washed the brown off of my paintbrush. The canvas was covered in dark blue, rich green and chocolate brown. I decided to mix a darker and lighter green to give the grass texture and detail, before I started on the leaves.

"I've always marvelled at how artists manage to be honest in their paintings. I find myself thinking that it would be easy to paint something inconsequential."

"It is. The truth can often be a sad and lonely thing, so it's scary and daunting to admit it, but the canvas is just material, and the paints are just oils, so they can never judge what you think or feel or mean. The people whose eyes fall upon your work will never know for certain what exactly you were thinking when you decided that a smidgen more black should taint that dark green, so you don't need to feel dubious to bare your soul to anybody. Painting is perfect for when you need to get a feeling out, but also keep it to yourself."

He was quiet for a moment, "So there is more to this painting than you told me before?" He wondered.

I grinned secretively and didn't reply.

"You're not going to tell me, are you?" He asked.

I shook my head, and I could have sworn I heard him groan, so I suppressed a mischievous chuckle.

How could I tell him though, that the honesty in my painting lay in the truth that I could not feel an ounce of safety, of freedom or of happiness in this life, had he not been the one to give it to me? How could I tell him that although the oil woods that moonlight gazed upon symbolized so much, all it truly meant was that I was in love?

Should I have come straight out with it? _Carlisle, I love you._

Should I have been poetic about it? _With the truth being such a sad and lonely thing, I am strangely unfazed to admit it.  
To admit I am pining for you.  
To admit I could drown in your scent, in your soul, in your arms.  
Yes, I am completely unfazed to admit it to myself, but not to admit it to you.  
It's the same old story of lover's woes, is it not?  
__I'm too afraid to lose you.  
Even if that risk meant that I could have you.  
__I could never risk it.  
__Because I love you too much to not be able to love you at all.  
__And that's the truth._

Or should I have done what I did, and not said anything?

"There's another thing I wanted to ask…" his gentle voice shook me from my musings.

"Yes?" I murmured, once again washing my brush.

"This might seem daft… How exactly can you get it to look real?"

I suppressed a laugh, "It's all in the blending…"

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_A.N. A short little chapter tonight, with me trying my very best to dig deeper than the goofy young couple whose eyes glow with the light of first love. I think Carlisle and Esme, when they grew closer and closer to admitting their feelings, would have experienced that odd and addictive dizziness that comes with falling in love for the first time, but they would have also experienced that insatiable curiosity that demands you uncover every single little detail about one another, and that is what I was hoping to begin here. Carlisle is a naturally inquisitive person by nature, and Esme's deeply caring nature is one that I believe would facilitate and encourage that.  
Anyhoo, next chapter shouldn't be too far away.  
Thanks once again to my readers, reviewers, followers and favouriters. (Excuse my improper English.)  
I hope you all enjoyed. x_


	17. A Lesson In Blending

_A.N. I must give you my apologies for uploading this and then removing it, and uploading it again... The email spam! I'm sorry!_

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_Chapter Seventeen: A Lesson In Blending_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, June 1921_

_Carlisle_

"Carlisle!" She almost squeaked, "Do you _want _me to ruin my painting?"

"No!" I chuckled, "Just shake a little more, you're too still."

"Do you shake during surgery?" She challenged, eyebrows raised, lips toying with a smirk.

"No." I grinned.

"Then perhaps painting is when _I _won't shake."

"Then perhaps you could let the painting dry, and I could teach you how to blend in?" I teased.

"_Then perhaps,_" she smirked, "After that I'll give you a lesson in blending."

"I think we have come to an agreement." Slowly I stood up, and held my hand out for her to take. She grinned as she placed her slender hand inside my larger one, and then I led her into the large kitchen.  
Although the room was completely unused, Edward and I had furnished it accordingly, despite our taste in furniture being bad at best. The back and right walls were lined with counters and cupboards, which were only interrupted by the small electric oven (which fascinated Edward more than he liked to admit.) The middle of the room was occupied by a round wooden table, and four chairs that were all made of the same wood as the dark floorboards.

The house, when I really considered it, was a horrible unloving place that was only ever chosen due to its location. It almost seemed improper for a lady to live in such a cold and dark house. To her credit, she never once complained… although she _did _hate the curtains.

I stopped in the doorway and unwillingly dropped her hand, "The key to acting like a human is to move excessively slow, and never be still. Humans generally blink at least three times a minute, and they're always moving in some way or another."

I watched her eyes sweep around the room, and then deliberately blink.

"Take a seat," I instructed, "Nice and slow."

She nodded and slowly – for a vampire, but quickly for a human – wandered over to the table. She gently pulled out the seat and sat down, then she looked up at me curiously.

"You would pass for a human, perhaps a frantic one, but still human."

"_That _was fast for a human?" She asked incredulously.

I nodded, "It was good for a first attempt. Now perhaps you could practice getting a glass from the cupboard?" I gestured to the cupboard that held the unused glassware and leaned against the doorframe.

She walked excessively slow, at human speed, over to the cupboard, which she opened carefully at the same speed, and removed a dusty glass.

"Dust," she whispered.

I suppressed a snicker, "It looks strange, doesn't it?"

She turned around to gape at me, "I used to think that I could see dust clearly but now I can really see it and I think… It's beautiful, but there's so much of it ... I think I hate it."

I chuckled, "I think I do too. Terribly annoying thing, dust. Beautiful, but terribly annoying."

She closed the cupboard and wandered over to the sink, still at human pace. Slowly she turned the faucet, and gently rinsed the dust off of the glass. She found an old tea towel nearby and dried the object before turning back to the table and taking a seat.  
Her big scarlet eyes turned back to gaze up at me.

"Very, very well done," I grinned, "You almost looked human."

"Almost?" She queried.

I laughed awkwardly, "You're too beautiful to ever blend in, Esme."

She shrugged offhandedly, "The perils of being a vampire."

I shook my head, "Not all humans make beautiful vampires. The venom fixes all the 'imperfections' but it cannot alter features. You're still you, you've always been beautiful."

She stared intently at the glass in her hands, "Thank you, Carlisle."

I ran my hand through my hair, "Your painting put me in an honest mood."

She grinned, "Shall I teach you some blending now?" She asked eagerly.

I chucked quietly, "You really do like your painting, don't you?"

She nodded, a few of her caramel curls escaped from the knot she had neatly fastened them in.

"I have a few more pointers first," I walked at human speed over to the table and held out my hand for the glass, "May I?"

She handed it to me, so I walked back over to the sink, and filled it halfway.

"On a rare occasion when mingling amongst humans you may have to pretend to eat." I wandered back to the table and took a seat, "And on a very rare occasion, you may find yourself actually having to eat."

Her eyes widened, "Is that even possible?"

"It's possible to chew and swallow, but not to digest. Which means we have to bring it back up afterward."

Her face crumpled in disgust, a sight at which I grinned.

"Having to drink is worse than having to eat." I cringed as I picked up the glass and put the rim to my lips. Gently I tipped the glass and felt the unfamiliar, cold and putrid taste of water touch my tongue. Quickly, I swallowed.

Esme's eyes widened in surprise, "Ew."

I nodded, "Very ew."

Her face crumpled up even more as she reached for the glass of water.

"You don't have to try it," I murmured.

"It's better if I try it here, rather than in front of humans." She put the glass to her lips, "I say, is bringing it back up much the same for us as it is for humans?"

I nodded, "It is."

"All right," she took a delicate sip and swallowed quickly. "Urgh, I'm never going to complain about deer's blood again. Has Edward ever tried this?"

I chuckled, "No."

"Next time he insists upon being ungratefully fussy, we'll have to give him water."

"Agreed."

She gave me a small smirk, "Any other disgusting activities for today?"

I gave her an apologetic look, and nodded, "Bringing it back up."

"Of course," she murmured, "Excuse me while I use the bathroom."

Quickly, she dashed out of the room, so I moved to the sink. The water was worse the second time around.

I was back in my seat before she re-entered the room.

"I'm not planning on making that a regular occurrence."

"That makes two of us."

She took her seat and folded her hands atop the table, "Anything else?"

I nodded, "Talk a little lower, and slower, never look anyone fully in the eye, unless you need to … hypnotise them."

"Hypnotise?" She queried.

"For lack of a better word. Vampires are naturally frightening creatures, but we have a distinct ability to be unbelievable alluring to our prey. For those of us who choose to feed on animals, that allure merely comes in handy when we want to get our way. Say I need to convince somebody to take the medication that they've been neglecting lately; it's as easy as staring at them directly in the eye, softening my expression, and speaking in a lower voice. A form of hypnosis."

She looked away thoughtfully, "You didn't do that to me when we first met, did you?"

I grinned, "No." _But I wish I did._

She nodded, "Good."

"Good?" I queried.

She gave me an impish grin, "I may have deliberately broken the other leg just to come back and see you."

I grinned, "I would have liked that." _A little too much._

"Me too," she giggled. All was quiet for a moment. "Anything more?"

"Always do something with your hands or feet… or both. Perhaps tap a beat with your toes, or flick your fingernails together, play with your hair, twist your hands in your lap. Absentminded things."

She nodded and pushed a stray curl behind her ear.

"If you need to hold your breath, pretend that you're breathing by moving your shoulders." I moved mine up and down, and she followed suit.

"Good."

She grinned, "Is that all?"

"For now," I grinned, "You're far too eager to get back to your painting, I can't bear to make you wait another minute."

She giggled and stood up quickly, dashing to my side and holding her open hand out in invitation. I gladly accepted, and enfolded it in my own.  
She pulled me back to the dining room while she murmured, "This is my favourite room in the whole house."

I raised my eyebrows, "It is?"

She nodded, "Look at the way the light floods in." She waved a hand to the small windows that lined the back wall, "If I had my way, I'd make the windows run from the floor to the ceiling, so all of the morning light would be able to get in." She turned to right wall, "I'd bring this forward a little, and push the kitchen wall back, then I'd take out the hallway and run it sideways, instead of lengthways, and turn the living room into a living and dining room, so no matter if it's morning or afternoon, the room would always be filled with light."

I chuckled, "Is light really that important?"

She nodded definitively, "Light is what makes a house a home. But if the hallway ran between the dining room and the kitchen, the library would be opposite the living room, and between that and the kitchen could be the bathroom and washroom, so the study would have an ensuite, which increases the value of the house considerably, and the study would have two exterior walls. More windows!"

"More light." I added.

"Exactly!" She grinned.

I laughed, "We could do that if you like?"

Her eyes widened, "Remodel the house?"

I nodded.

She shook her head quickly, "Oh, no. It probably wouldn't work anyway. I don't really know anything about houses. I was just thinking out loud."

"But what you said made sense, and I trust your opinion. You have an artist's eye."

She looked down at her feet, "I was just being silly."

I shrugged, "Be that as it may, I'm letting _you_ choose the next house we live in. The curtains in this place are atrocious."

She gleamed back up at me, "Really?"

I nodded, "Really."

I could have sworn I heard her squeak in excitement.

She pulled me over to the dining table and sat me down in the seat she had occupied to paint not long ago. She leaned over my shoulder to grab the canvas and put it in front of me, all the while engulfing me in her heavenly scent.

Her scent wasn't simple, not like Edward's honey-and-lilac-summer scent, or my cinnamon-pear-and-fresh-air scent. Hers was layered, like a real perfume. There was honey suckle, apricot, and passion fruit, orange blossom, peach, and mandarin leaves, as well as osmanthus, wood and the classic smell of golden musk that was not at all like deer musk, but more like the smell of a mother. Her scent was both Edward's and my favourite smell in the world… For different reasons of course. His, because he loved her like a mother and mine because I loved her, full stop.

I closed my eyes as I inhaled the smell of heaven that God had given me, and only opened them when the sound of heaven demanded my attention. "Okay," she murmured, "Obviously, this is the ground," she pointed to the green grass on the canvas, "These are the trees," she pointed to the line of brown, "Well, they're going to be the trees… And that's the sky." She pointed to the midnight blue at the top of the canvas.

"Most people would paint the sky black," I murmured.

"And that's where most people go wrong. Never use black unless you really, really have to." She moved to my side and took the seat that I had occupied earlier.

"You're actually going to make me paint this?" I queried.

She nodded and giggled, "I practised blending in, so yes."

I sighed theatrically, to which she rolled her eyes.

"You've been spending too much time around Edward," I pointed out.

She shrugged, "I can't help it. I love him," but then she sighed, "Sometimes I feel guilty about acting like a mother, undoubtedly he still misses his real mother, and I can never be that…"

I put a hand on her shoulder, "He loves you too. Not only can I tell just by looking, but he tells me it all the time."

"Does he really?" She whispered, eyes coming alight with a muted glee.

I nodded, and her face broke into a smile.

"He's too sweet for his own good."

I suppressed a chuckle, "And as his mother, you are the only person in the entire world who thinks that."

Her eyebrows knitted together, "What about you?"

I gave her a lopsided, mischievous smile, "Should Edward ever discover I think him _sweet_, he'd rip my head right of my shoulders and throw it into the fire."

She shook her head, "That's not funny."

"I apologise," I murmured.

She sighed, "A world without you in it, is not a good nor promising place. I'd rather burn than see that day. So let's never have to worry about it, instead, let's worry about getting the perfect trees onto that canvas."

I nodded and she handed me a paintbrush. She carefully watched as I picked out the colours and explained what each would look like a few shades darker or lighter.  
"They still retain their base colour when you add white or black. See look at the bright green compared to the normal green, you can see that the brighter green has more yellow than that of the normal green, so if you were to add white to that it would become a _pale_ bright green, whereas if you added white to the normal green, it would merely become a lighter _shade_ of green."

She coached me through painting the tree trunks. I had never realised quite how involved painting precisely was. It took me a full half hour to finish one trunk, but it was worth it to see the pride gleaming in Esme's eyes. I marvelled at what an incredible teacher she must have been, and an incredible mother she would have made.

Once I finished the trunk she suggested I paint some leaves, promising me that they were easy she leaned back in her seat to watch, grinning.

I felt my brow furrow in a long familiar gesture of concentration. I watched Esme adjust her focus to the window, out the corner of my eyes.

"It's so quiet in the house," she murmured, as she stood up walked to stand in the sunlight masked by clouds.

"Edward has a gramophone upstairs in his room," I replied as I placed the thirtieth leaf on my tree, "We could fetch it down if you like? See what music he has?"

She turned around, her eyes alive with excitement, "Do you think he'd mind?"

I shrugged as I put the paintbrush down and got out of my chair, "No, he used to offer it to me often, but I preferred silence while I was reading."

She nodded, "It's hard to focus on words when there's so much else going on. I'll get some fresh turpentine for the brushes."

I grinned as I dashed upstairs and grabbed the gramophone from Edward's room, as well as a few records. When I made it back to the dining room Esme was humming in the kitchen getting a new clean jar, our painting still lay on the table unfinished. I flicked through the records that I had grabbed from Edward's room, and chose the least disturbing. Edward liked moody and frightening pieces from composers like Chopin.

"I've no idea where Edward keeps his records that aren't classical," I laughed as I heard her re-enter the room.

I heard her give a small chuckle, "That's all right. Your tree is looking good."

"I'm not sure painting is my forte."

"I disagree. You're good at everything."

I shrugged, "I've had a lot of time to practise many things, but I wouldn't say _everything_."

"I'm sure you're good at everything you haven't tried yet," she moved over to look at what I was doing with the gramophone after she put the jug down, "I've never seen a gramophone before."

"Edward likes technology, I'm getting used to it, especially with his insistence that we buy every new piece that is released. I'm always convinced that it's only a phase, but some things, like cars for example, seem to be capable of longevity. He had us lining up for one of the very first radios last year."

She cocked an eyebrow, "A radio?"

I nodded, "You know what a radio is, don't you?"

She shook her head.

I raised my eyebrows in surprise, "A radio plays sounds that are transmitted from a radio station."

She blinked in confusion, "How?"

"You know the colour spectrum?" I asked, to which she nodded. "Radio waves are like that, except longer. The transmitter sends waves from the radio station and the receiver picks them up and then plays them, so we can hear what's been said."

She cocked an eyebrow, "Sound waves thrown over oceans?"

I grinned, "Something like that."

"I can show it to you if you'd like?" I suggested.

"Perhaps later."

I put the record into the gramophone, "Did you know this isn't technically a gramophone, but actually a record player?"

"I did not, but I do now."

We shared a small grin as I put the needle on the record, and gentle piano music filled the room.

She looked up to me, "Did you want to paint another tree?"

I raised an eyebrow, and straightened my shoulders, "Perhaps soon, but first… Would you care to dance, ma'am?"

For a moment her expression went blank, before it turned baffled, "No one has ever asked me to dance before."

"Never?" I felt my eyebrows shoot up to my hairline.

She shook her head.

I gave her my biggest grin, "Well then, what a pleasure this is for me. Do you know how to dance?"

She giggled, and placed her hand in mine, "I think so."

I took a step closer to her and lifted her arm up into a casual waltz position, then I placed my hand just above the small of her back as her slender hand found my shoulder.

She grinned up at me, on the verge of laughter, so I returned her smile and began the dance. She was naturally blessed with perfect rhythm, so in turn, she was a beautiful dancer. We waltzed around the room, dodging the table and chairs as best we could – which should have been easy for vampires, but our attention was otherwise compromised by each others laughing eyes – and joked about everything under the sun, because everything was funny when you were in love.

It wasn't until the sound of the wheels on the rocky drive reached the house that we realised the music had finished, and so many hours had passed.

Reluctantly we broke apart, and I put another record on. Esme examined our painting, complementing me once again on my tree trunk. We were dancing again by the time Edward came in. He grinned from the doorway at the sight of us, then gently tapped me on the shoulder, and gracefully cut in. It was an incredible thing to watch my son and his mother dance around the room to a waltz but doing a very lively number to a tune in their heads; all the while the three of us talked and laughed like a perfect little family. There was only one problem in my mind… My son's mother wasn't my wife.

But that was a dream for another day.

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_A.N. Thank you all again for the kind words in your reviews, they are very, very appreciated. I hope you enjoyed!_


	18. Where We Place Our Love and Faith

_A.N. **Please note:** This chapter lightly deals with Esme's abuse as a human, and contains themes that may be offensive to some readers. The chapter is not graphic in any way and complies with the story's T rating (Suitable for 13+).  
If you would like to avoid reading about this topic, it is advised you skip over the large speaking paragraph towards the middle/end of the piece. Thank you for reading._

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_Chapter Eighteen: Where We Place Our Love and Faith_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, June 1921_

_Esme_

The problem with bathing as a vampire was that the water so readily refused to retain the heat it once held, instead it attempted to imitate my icy body temperature. It didn't matter much, even cold water was warm to my skin, but there was something tantalisingly lovely about the scalding hot water on my freezing cold body.  
The boys were out in the garage, working on the car and having one of their half silent – half whispered conversations. Something was wrong, but I didn't know what. I knew that if it was really bad, Carlisle would tell me, but I also knew he'd try to spare me as much worry as he could. I had an inkling it was just Edward and his stubbornness again.  
Ever since the week before, the day after the three of us had spent the afternoon and a large part of the evening dancing around the dining room, Edward had been moodily distant. He spent more time than usual hammering out dark piano compositions and insisting upon hunting alone. I didn't ask questions about what was upsetting him, I reasoned that it was between the two men, but sometimes I caught Edward sighing at odd moments, glaring at inanimate objects, and staring out the window with a heartbreakingly sad and lonely look in his eyes.

I wanted to wrap him in my arms and make him feel all right again, but I wasn't entirely sure if the gesture would be appreciated.  
Carlisle tried to avoid arguing with Edward in front of me at all costs, but Edward's opinions knew no convenient times. To his credit, he hid his temper well, and I had never heard him raise his voice, instead he'd pinch the bridge of his nose and focus on his breathing. I had unparalleled amounts of sympathy for the boy, his gift would make it exceptionally hard to find an end for any discussion.

I washed the final amounts of shampoo out of my hair as I heard the back door teetering on its hinges. Edward took up his spot at the piano and began furiously playing one of his angrier compositions. Carlisle's wary footsteps trudged across the lawn not long after. I rose out of the bath before he walked through the kitchen door, and was dressed by the time I heard his footsteps at the doorway to the sitting room.

He sighed, "Edward, all I'll say now, is that I wish you would."

Edward replied with a muted growl.

I tried to ignore the irrational apprehension that twisted in my stomach. After years of abuse at the hands of a man, it was a reaction to be expected, but I knew I was safe with Carlisle and Edward.

I tousled my hair in the towel and drained the bath of the water, before quickly pinning the damp curls into their usual bun and the back of my head. I listened as Carlisle's slow footsteps came up the stairs, and waited until he was in his room until I left the bathroom. No doubt he'd want a bath after the messy work he'd been doing with the car, but I didn't fancy appearing at the top of the stairs just as he was climbing them. Quietly I dashed to my room, leaving the door I once ripped of its hinges, open in my wake.

I had decorated my room with many of the flowers that Carlisle had planted for me months ago, and they filled the large room with a sweet aroma that I adored. Although, I adored it second only to the smell of my two boys.  
My eyes fell upon the painting I had begun with Carlisle and finished only that morning, as the boys talked and worked on the car. It had turned out better than I ever expected, the rich colours making the world come alive. Although, I had to admit, I was particularly partial to one singular tree on the far left of the canvas, not for its aesthetically pleasing dimensions, but because of the artist who painted it. Of course, he'd never think of himself as an artist, but truth be told, I always would.

I listened as Carlisle's footsteps emerged from his room and quickly entered the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He took a deep breath. I dreamed the reason was to inhale my scent, but rationalized that it was merely to calm himself down now he was alone. I momentarily wondered if and where he'd like to hang the painting that now lay upon my bed.

With nothing in my bedroom that held any interest to me, in terms of activities, I descended the stairs, flicked an unspoken greeting to Edward's back – he didn't reply – and found myself wandering around the study, trying to choose a book. I decided on the volume of fairytales that Carlisle had read to me not long ago, and settled on the floor with my back pressed against the chaise. I read slowly, almost at human pace, and pulled my hair out of its knot, before weaving it into a braid it hadn't known since I was eighteen. I was partway through _Rumpelstiltskin _when Carlisle snuck up on me.

I winced in surprise when his hands gently grabbed my shoulders, to which he chuckled.

"You are the only vampire I have ever met that one, jumps when startled, and two, gets engrossed in something so much, that they are lost to the world around them."

"I have an overactive imagination." I murmured in defence as I looked up to his heavenly face.

He smirked in reply, "A very good thing," he gently picked up my braid, "I like your hair like that, it looks nice," his voice was indifferent, but his words played at my heartstrings, "What story were you reading?"

"Thank you." I murmured to his offhanded complement, "_Rumpelstiltskin._ I find it rather creepy."

"Are not most of the Brother's Grimm stories creepy also?"

I considered his question for a moment, looking thoughtfully down at the book. "I suppose they are. It's strange to think they were written for children."

He shrugged and sat down by my side, "Children often deal with fear much better than most adults."

"You're right, especially boys," I grinned over at him, "The young boys I used to teach would tell the poor girls the most frightful stories. Honestly, if they knew vampires were real, I think they'd jump for joy instead of run in fear."

Carlisle chuckled quietly and shook his head, "How the world has changed. When I was young we _knew_ they were real, and we lost sleep over it."

"Well then I think we can deduce that your generation were much smarter that the new generation coming through."

He sighed and gazed down at the book in my lap with sad eyes, "Some days I feel older than others."

There was a quiet snarl from the other room, "Carlisle…" Edward's voice warned.

Carlisle sighed, and ran his hand through his hair, a gesture I had come to recognise as a sign of awkwardness or stress. I placed a hand atop his knee. He smiled slightly and placed his free hand atop mine, he absentmindedly stroked it with his thumb as he mentally apologised to Edward, who laughed maniacally and humourlessly mere milliseconds afterward.

Carlisle turned to me, "Perhaps we should go for a walk?"

I nodded and moved to close the book, but Edward appeared in the doorway, "And what good will that do? Go for a walk, avoid Edward? If you want me out of the house just say Carlisle! Just say it!" He boomed.

"Edward I've never said nor implied anything of the sort, and you know it. You're angry, but you're reaching. You're unhappy with me, I know, but in your irritation be careful not to say things that you do not mean, and please refrain from raising your voice."

There was silence for ghostly moment, as I waited in apprehension, fear bubbling in my veins, breath catching in my throat. Carlisle's thumb, which still stroaked my hand, was the only reason I was able to remain calm. Edward's eyes flashed with rage, I expected him to pinch the bridge of his nose, and exhale in exasperation before storming back to his piano and resuming the dark sonata he had previously played.

But he didn't.

He did something worse.

Much worse.

He growled with such menace, that I did not catch a single word he said. All I saw was the dark desires flickering in his eyes and the threat of his deep bass. I didn't think to attack like a newborn should, or would perhaps, all I thought to do was run, but I was trapped. He growled for such a long time, the rational part of my brain that had not succumbed to the almost all consuming fear, reasoned that he must have forgotten my presence in the room, for Edward, my son, the boy I loved, would have never meant to scare me, for he never meant to hurt me. But I was scared. Worse than scared, I was honestly afraid. Literally terrified. Had I been human, my heart would have stopped. But I wasn't human, so I just froze, and immediately Carlisle sensed my stress. His hand quickly encircled my own, which was still on his leg, and his golden eyes bore into mine.

"Esme, are you all right? Come, let's go outside and get some air."

I didn't reply, I merely stared straight back at him, still frozen in fear. Out of the corner of my eyes I watched as Edward relaxed his stance, his own fear flooding into his eyes.

"Esme, Esme, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to… I just… I didn't think. I'll go. I'll go. I'm sorry." His lanky frame walked backwards with palms open in front of him, and then disappeared all together, as Carlisle lifted his spare hand to gently stroke my face.

It took a while for me to calm down, and by the time the fear had escaped my body, I was filled with a mess of emotion that frightened me nearly as much.

Carlisle managed to get me out of the library, through the kitchen and onto the back porch, where he sat me down beside him, and encircled me in his arms. I sat there for a while, unmoving, as he gently stroked my back, and attempted to sort out the tumultuous tornado of emotion that ripped through my body.

As I calmed even more, I noticed my breathing had taken on somewhat of a hysterical edge, because it had finally dawned on my why I was so very scared… The graphic memories I had been repressing all came flooding back to me.

Carlisle pulled back, and looked into my eyes, he must have known the look of one remembering dark moments from their past, because he knew immediately what was going on.

"Esme, talk to me. Are you all right?" His gentle eyes were almost frantically worried.

"I…I…" I stammered.

"You're safe, my sweet. You're safe here." He stroked my cheek with his ever-so-gentle fingers, and he patiently waited for me to gather my thoughts.

"I just remembered… remembered everything… I don't know…"

"You can tell me if you'd like," he murmured.

I shook my head, "I can't. I'll be fine. I can't burden your ears with this."

He lowered himself down onto the step beneath me, so he was looking up to me, it was a subtle way of showing he meant no harm. "Esme, it is not a burden to me. Anything you have to say is not a burden to me. I _want _to hear it. I want to help you through this. If you need to remove this burden from your shoulders, I want to help you lift it. If you want to say it, and get it off of your chest, I want to be the one who hears it."

"I can't, it's not proper." I whimpered.

His eyes flickered with an emotion close to exasperation, "Forget that you've been told it's not right to share this, forget that it's something a woman only tells her husband, forget that we live in a world where it's okay for a man to hurt his wife, and tell me what you need to say, because whenever you have something you need to say, I will _always_ be listening. I will help you carry this burden, and I will do everything I can to make you feel all right again, to make you feel happy again, but I need you to let me do that. Say anything you need to get off of your chest, and I will be listening, and remember that nothing you say could ever tarnish the way I think of you, Esme."

His voice was so thick with an emotion I couldn't identify as he quietly pleaded with me. His hands held mine so gently in my lap, I felt a sense of trust that I had never felt before, and I frantically searched his face for the truth that his words had said.  
His golden eyes were liquid pools of sincerity, pain and fervent hope. His blond hair was tousled; his eyebrows concerned, and his beautiful plump lips had a slight downward curve of a gloriously heartbreaking frown.  
I dared not take a deep breath, in fear I would calm myself enough to continue with my delusion that I needn't share my burden, because I needed more than anything to get it out. I needed it like I needed to yank the pins out of my hair after a long day, and feel my wayward curls flowing freely down my back and shoulders. Yes, I needed to unlock the chains that weighed on my heart, pulling them down deeply into the pits of pain and despair. Carlisle held the key to free me of those chains; all I needed to do was say the words.  
So I let them roll off of my tongue at such a speed there was no stopping them.

"It was four years ago, in 1917, all of the women my age were either married or engaged to be so… Except me. I turned down every suitor that came my way; I refused to go to dances and social things of the like because I didn't want to be married. Partly because I wanted to do something with my time on Earth, and partly because I simply never met anyone I wanted to marry. None of them met the standard.  
"That infuriated my father, he said it reflected badly upon the family. He had a friend whose son had good prospects, and he wanted me to meet him. The man's name was Charles Evenson, he was twenty-nine, and thoroughly charming. He'd enough money for a townhouse in one of the nicest areas of Columbus, and he was well liked and respected by all whom he met. Father said I'd be lucky to have him, so I agreed to meet him, although I didn't have much of a choice. He seemed nice… He knew what to say and when to say it to win my parents over, and my father grew to see him with a shining halo upon his head. I didn't love him when he asked my father for my hand, but I wasn't completely opposed to the idea. Father wouldn't let me move west to the wilds, and I had almost exhausted his pool of eligible bachelors, so I supposed myself lucky that Charles was even offering. I didn't want to spend the remainder of my life as a nurse to the elderly, bringing shame and embarrassment on my parents.  
"We were married not long after. I knew it was a bad idea, marrying a man I did not love. I cried the whole morning, but mother merely told me to get a handle on my emotions, and be a good, and dutiful wife. It wasn't until after the ceremony that I learned just how great of a bad idea it really had been.  
"I was so nervous and scared. I wanted to run away, or at least go outside for some fresh air, hold hands and get to know each other beforehand… But he didn't.  
"I cried the entire time. He didn't like that at all. I woke up the next morning covered in bruises and still bleeding."

I tore my eyes from his face, and looked down to our hands in my lap, but he soon removed one of his from the knot they had gotten themselves into, and reached up to cradle my face. He guided my face back up to look at his tender eyes, which plainly said 'I'm still listening.'

I nodded slightly, then sucked in a brave breath and carried on, "I was quick to learn what angered him and I avoided it completely. Some days he wouldn't even hit me at all.  
"I remember the day he got his papers delivered, he sat down in the sitting room and snapped the drawing table in half. Then he cried for hours. I stayed away from him, in the kitchen, cooking and baking. When he was finished crying over his conscription he came into the kitchen and pushed me in the oven as he went to get more alcohol. I was burned all up my arms and all over my hands. Turning on that faucet was one of the most painful experiences of my life, so naturally he could sense the pain, and turned the water off when he walked passed again, then shoved my head into the tap.  
"When he left for the war I was given time to heal. My wounds turned into scars and I could sleep the whole night through, but when he came back it was worse. I soon found out that the war had been solely and entirely _my_ fault.  
"The days turned into nightmares, but he usually passed out drunk before the sun fell. He'd wake me up most nights by…"

I lowered my eyes again, so he stroked my cheek with his thumb.  
I took another brave breath, "I told my mother and father, but they were disappointed that I would share the private details of our marriage. 'What's between a husband and his wife should stay between a husband and his wife,' they would say. They saw Charles as a war hero… As did everyone else… But I saw him as a coward.  
"Sometimes I slept on the bathroom floor while he tried to break down the door. He'd be angry in the morning, but morning beatings were never as bad as night time.  
"He'd hit me if I spoke before he asked me to, and if he had to ask me to speak before I'd talk he'd hit me too. He even beat me once because I came home to find him and one of his mistresses in the bedroom, because I made her feel like she had to leave. Perhaps he was expecting me to ask her to stay for Sunday dinner…  
"More than I had ever wanted anything in the world, I wanted to leave that house and that man. The pregnancy gave me a reason. I left most of my things there, to make it look like an abduction, and I never looked back. I stayed with a distant cousin in Milwaukee, but she felt too guilty keeping my whereabouts a secret from my 'worried' parents, so I had to run again. I couldn't go far, not with the baby, so I came here and built something of a life for us. It was going to be hard, but I was going to be a good mother. I had to be. And then he died… My reason to survive died with him. I was so scared and alone. I didn't know what to so. He was my angel… But angels don't belong bound to Earth."

I looked up and met his tender gaze, "Well," I gave him a small smile, "Aside from a few exceptions."

He traced my cheekbone with his thumb and then tucked a short strand of my hair, which had come loose from my braid, behind my ear.

"Thank you," he whispered, "For trusting me with that."

I felt sobs rising in my chest, and my breathing began to hitch in my throat, "Carlisle, I trust you with _everything_."

His liquid eyes melted even more, before he slowly rose back up to the step I was on, and pulled me into his arms for a gentle hug, "Come here," he whispered as the sobs bubbled from my lips. "You're always going to be safe here. Edward will lose his temper from time to time, but he loves you so dearly, and he would never harm you."

I nodded into his chest, knowing it was the truth.

"I will _never_ let anyone hurt you again," he spoke in a broken whisper, and it was then that I realised that he must truly care for me. Of course, I'd known that for a long time. I'd known he loved me as part of his family, but it was only then that I truly saw it. I was a part of his family, and he loved me. There was no proof of romantic love, I knew, but any kind of love was good enough for me in that moment, especially if it was from him.

We sat there for a long moment, me wrapped in his arms, as I worked to calm my gentle sobs. When my breathing had become almost steady, I pulled away from his chest, but remained in his embrace. His gentle eyes looked down upon me curiously.

"I finished our painting today," I whispered.

"Our painting," he grinned, "You did most of the work."

I gave a small shrug, "Your tree is my favourite. Would you like to see it?"

"I would." He removed his arms from around my body, but secured my hand safely in his, then once he was standing, he helped me up.

I led him upstairs and into my room, which was horribly improper but I didn't care. I was coming to realize that he didn't either. All he wanted was for me to be happy. Typical Carlisle.

I led him over to the bed, where the painting lay, and let him examine it. He smiled softly as his eyes took in the moonlit scene. He reached a nimble hand out to touch the canvas, but stopped his finger before it made contact. He traced the trees in the air above the painting, stopping the slow dance only when his finger reached the moon.

"Esme, it's beautiful." He murmured so quietly it was almost a whisper, "We should hang it up."

I looked to him with doubtful eyes, "Really?"

He nodded, "Something this exquisite doesn't deserve to be hidden."

The look in his eyes as he said those words almost led me to believe he wasn't talking about the painting at all, but something else, something he found even more beautiful than the wild forest in the silent moonlight. But I couldn't be sure.

"Is that all right with you?" He queried.

I nodded, "Where would you like to hang it?"

He considered my question for a short moment, "Somewhere we'll see it every day. Perhaps downstairs, next to the front door, by the dining room?"

I grinned and nodded, "That would be nice."

He picked up the canvas and headed for the door, with me following closely.

"It shall remind us all, every day, that we are all loved." He held it gently to the side as he walked down the stairs. He placed the canvas on the floor by the door as he dashed out to the garage to get a nail, which he then hammered into the wall with his hand.

He stood back to my side and examined it once he was done, "What would you like to call it?"

I gazed at the painting thoughtfully, "I'm not sure. Something to do with what it symbolizes."

He raised an eyebrow, "Freedom?"

I shook my head, then timidly murmured, "Love… and Faith, because where there is love, there is always faith, and where there is faith there is always love."

He slowly turned his head to look down at me as I gazed up at him. His soft expression melted into a tender smile, he gave me a small nod, and then gently wrapped his arm around my shoulders. I stepped in closer to him, and let my head find a comfortable spot to rest.

"It's perfect," he murmured, and I wasn't sure if he meant the painting, the title, or the moment we had found ourselves in.

Or perhaps, like me, he thought perfect described all of it.

* * *

_A.N. Thank you once again for all of your absolutely lovely reviews. And big thanks to all those who have favourited/followed, and all those who have simply read! It mean so much to me to have your continued following and feedback._

_**Be sure to visit my profile to vote in the poll as to where you'd like to see this story end! I added a very many options for you all to choose from!**_

_Much love x_


	19. The First Fourth

_Chapter Nineteen: The First Fourth_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, July 1921_

_Carlisle_

With every day that passed I found it more and more difficult to focus on medicine while I worked. Of course, the focus and attention that I gave to my practise was much more than anything any human had ever dreamed of giving, but for me, it was only a fraction of what I was capable of. The largest part of my attention was back at the dark little house on the outskirts of town, with a young boy and a young woman who had similar colour hair, and held my love so dearly that I could never refrain from thinking of them.

Her in particular… She was in _everything_ I ever thought of. When I was discussing liver transplants and blood transfusions, I was picturing her curious eyes, and funny comments that would make the moment an indescribably beautiful one that I would cherish for the remainder of eternity.

I was sorely in love with her, now more than ever, and I needed to tell her that, now more than ever. The question was not when, or where, or why, but _how._ When and where would come after, and why did not matter any more. Asking me why I loved her was like asking a scientist why the world turns around, or why gravity exists, and the answer is always because it is vitally necessary. The world should cease to hold any single shred of sense, should she not remain in my life. This is how it would be forever, I knew, because I could not change, I couldn't simply un-love her now. I would love her for eternity (whether she loved me back or not) and I wanted that portion of my eternity to start as soon as possible. I didn't want to go another day pretending as though she didn't mean more to me than anything else ever had.

My thoughts had transitioned effortlessly and seamlessly into the exact kind of romantic prose that emphasized my loneliness and kept me away from romance novels in the many years before I had found Esme. Now there was no escaping them, for Edward or for I.

And this was not something he was particularly thrilled with. Since the day he had been assigned an essay to compile on romance novels of the nineteenth century, and then come home to find Esme and I waltzing around in the dining room, he had been insisting that I reveal to her my feelings. He didn't understand why I was so hesitant to be so forthright. Our quiet discussions morphed into arguments so easily that it frightened me, for it was in those moments I felt as though I barely even knew my son at all. The cold and obtrusive truth however, is that neither of us barely knew _me _anymore.

I soon discovered that our quarrels were not entirely my fault, nor were they truly even about my hidden feelings. Edward was struggling with his college classes.  
He had decided to attend classes when we arrived in Ashland, a choice I doubted was solely for his own enjoyment, and rather partly so I could return to practising medicine. He admitted freely that although science interested him slightly more than English literature, he'd prefer not to take any risks in the often-problematic laboratories. Humans had such a habit of hurting themselves especially when handed scalpels and implements of the like, and his control was not ready to be tested quite that far just yet. I had faith that should he need to, Edward would be able to hold his breath at first sight or smell of blood. He did not quite share the same belief that I did, and he was struggling with his bloodlust predominantly in his History of British Literature class. There was a particular young man who was prone to inappropriate thoughts regarding the few female students in the room, and Edward was struggling to let the boy be. Esme's situation did not help his struggles at all. I had never seen Edward so enraged or bloodthirsty as he was whenever her human husband was mentioned. In all honesty, I hated the man more than I had ever hated anything in my life. Anger burned through my veins like venom whenever he entered into my mind, and uncharacteristically, it took every single inch of control that I had accumulated over the years, not to run back to Columbus and throw his lifeless body on a bonfire. Edward experienced the very same struggle, because Esme was so beautiful, and delicate, and _gentle._ A woman, who only knew how to love, had been given the exact opposite by a monster that still crawled the Earth. It did not seem fair nor right, but I knew it was no decision of mine, whether he should live or die.

That was God's decision.

My faith assured me that much.

However, the few days that had recently passed had been the hardest for me to accept that. Her broken words on the back porch steps played on my mind like a scratched record that kept repeating. _'I cried the entire time. He didn't like that at all. I woke up the next morning covered in bruises and still bleeding.'_ My heart sunk whenever I remembered those words, and my stomach succumbed to an all-consuming feeling of nausea. I didn't understand how somebody could hurt and violate such a beautiful person like that.

Unfortunately, Edward had heard the entire conversation in my memory, as my mind refused to do anything by replay it all over for the endless hours of the days that followed. He had cautiously returned home that afternoon, but when he had heard only worry in Esme's mind, he found her and held on to her for an immeasurable amount of time as he profusely apologised and she covered the top of his head in kisses. I had to stop myself from wishing that she would do the same to mine.  
Edward looked the closest to sobs that I had ever seen him, as he sat there curled in his mother's arms. In fact, I found him in the garage a few days later, sitting in the hay, quietly sobbing over what he had heard in my mind.

I had taken a seat next to him, and draped my arm over his shoulder. We had talked for a few moments; about how to make sure Esme would always be all right with us. A resolve such as that helped him to put on a brave face to the woman who could see straight through them. She hugged Edward and I more in the passed few weeks than she had done in her entire time with us prior to her confession.

They were such welcome embraces.

Edward listened to the advice I had given him, and began asking Esme for help with his literature assignments, not because his intellect needed any help at all, but merely because Esme seemed to understand the complex feelings behind such novels more than either he or I ever had.

So our evening debates morphed into discussions of literature and our little lives returned somewhat back to normal. Edward was still unhappy, but I'd no idea how to fix that, because I was still unhappy too.

Her words were the most torturous things that my old ears had ever heard. _'He even beat me once because I came home to find him and one of his mistresses in the bedroom, because I made her feel like she had to leave.' _

That particular part of her tale confused me more than any other. I couldn't comprehend how any man with the privilege of cherishing his wife could ever want to find himself in the arms of another. Especially if that wife was Esme.

Oh, Lord, if she were _my_ wife…

I couldn't think of that now.

No.

I was supposed to be focussing on the surgery I was undertaking. Mentally chiding myself for getting so distracted, I used every last inch of my control to bring myself back to the procedure I was faced with. Over the years the risks of such procedures had decreased monumentally, and it seemed as though medicine was powering full speed ahead. The days of near null fatalities from simple surgical procedures were fast approaching us, and I had never been so excited to be practising medicine. However, the developments of health treatments were nothing compared to the developments in my life.

There I went again. Distracted by Esme.

I had to suppress a groan as I realised my train of thought was more easily derailed than I had first believed, so I spent the rest of the procedure religiously reciting the most recent article I had read on the use of insulin to treat diabetes.

The beginning of my shift had been a slow one. The emergency room had been empty when I arrived, and seemingly all of the hospital's patients had retired early for the night, and were experiencing no discomfort that warranted a doctor's attention.

I was dismayed at the thought of having to endure an eventless night; it was quiet nights such as those that dragged on for eternal hours.

However, two hours into my twelve-hour shift, a group of seven men (six of whom had livers saturated in alcohol) were brought in with fatal wounds from an automobile accident. The injuries ranged from bumps and bruises to lost limbs and one near decapitation. We rushed those with the worst of the injuries straight into surgery; so far of those four with critical injuries, we had lost two. It was emotionally difficult, losing patients, but arguably the hardest part was telling the family. There was no easy way to tell someone that his or her loved one was dead.

The thought of two men having died on the surgery table – despite it being my colleague's and not mine – made me feel even more guilty for my distracted thoughts of Esme.

We were into the fourth hour of surgery (which admittedly did not fall into the simple category I had been considering earlier) on the man who had received some of the worst injuries, second only to he who died of blood-loss soon after he was thrown into a tree. The patient whom I worked on had been the innocent bystander in it all, hit by a car travelling far too fast. Most of the bones in his body were broken, but most bones could repair well enough. The main issue was the swelling in his brain, and any surgery involving the brain was horribly experimental, so I didn't hold much hope in the victim surviving, but I was going to try my best. After all, not all victims of an automobile accident with near fatal brain injuries had a nearing three hundred year old vampire with centuries of medical practice operating on them. Even though said vampire could barely go three minutes without wondering if the love of his existence – who didn't even know she was the love of his existence – was waiting on the top step of their staircase in their home, waiting for him to come back to her with the utterly heartbreakingly beautiful longing light in her big round ruby eyes.

_Focus_.

Somehow, by some miracle (that I would have to accredit to a colleague to avoid the attention) we managed to relieve the pressure of the swelling on the brain, and despite the fact that the patient would hardly make a full recovery, he wasn't dead nor brain dead. A success. This was not the first occasion in my long life where I managed to succeed in an area of medicine that was barely developed. True, neurosurgery was gaining momentum, after all it was only the year before that the Society of Neurological Surgeons was formed, but the world was not yet ready for the kind of surgery that I accomplished that night. Perhaps that was another reason why I favoured night shifts, so much information got misinterpreted in the many paper processed that followed, so it was very easy to downplay the seriousness of the victim's injuries. I would have Edward monitor the thoughts of those involved in the following weeks however, just to be sure I was in the clear.

I walked out of the operating room and cleaned up, with my spirits modestly high, and made my way back to the emergency room. It was nearing three in the morning when the emergency room was finally empty, and I took a few 'human moments' in the staff kitchen, where most of my colleagues had gathered to discuss the night's events.

"We lost three in the end," Dr. Gregson murmured, to a tired Dr. Dawson as I walked through the door, "The driver, and two passengers. Ah, Doctor Cullen! The man of the hour! You managed to save the pedestrian, did you not?"

I nodded, "We did, yes."

He shook his head in amazement, as the nurses looked my way in awe, "Miraculous. I was sure his time was up."

I gave an offhanded shrug, "His injuries seemed worse than they really were. We weren't entirely sure how to handle the brain, but it seemed to sort itself out once the pressure was relieved. Of course, I daresay he won't regain full use of it again."

"I sense modesty," sang one of the nurses, Ruby, who was celebrating her thirty-first birthday.

I laughed awkwardly and shook my head, "Honesty." I corrected, "Did I read on the noticeboard that it was your birthday?" I inquired innocently, readily hoping to change the subject.

I wandered over to the counter to pour myself a cup of tea as her heartbeat accelerated. Perhaps my new line of conversation was just as bad as the previous one had been.

She gave me a wide grin and laughed, "That was yesterday, Dr. Behind The Times. It's the fourth now. Happy Independence Day!"

I tried to look surprised and tired, "Of course. Yes, Happy Independence Day, and Happy belated Birthday."

She blushed, "Thank you."

I looked back to Dr. Gregson, who was trying not to snicker, he was the only doctor in the hospital whom I would consider almost a friend, and he was also the only one who knew for a fact that I returned none of Ruby's feelings. He caught my eye and changed the subject, "Heading to the fair tonight, Mable?" He asked the older nurse, who nodded in reply.

"I am, and I'm greatly looking forward to it. Are you?"

Gregson shook his head, "Working. I traded my night with Carlisle, he gets my Tuesday night, I get his Monday."

"That was nice of you!" Ruby's eyes lit up with joy, and then she turned to face me, "Are _you _going to the fair tonight… Carlisle?"

It wasn't customary for nurses to call doctors by their first names, but Ruby must have been feeling a sense of friendship or just blatant boldness in that very moment.

"No," I murmured, "I'll be spending time with my niece and nephew."

She raised an eyebrow, "They don't want to go?"

Gregson cleared his throat at her inappropriate line of questioning, but I answered her nonetheless, "My niece is very sickly at the moment."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise; "Well surely you could let your nephew take care of her for the night? We could all attend the fair together as a group!"

I caught a glimpse at Mable's shocked expression out the corner of my eye, and inwardly smiled at her deep-set Victorian values. Ruby was being most forward.

"Thank you, but I'd really rather stay home and tend to my niece." I smiled then turned to tip my tea down the drain, "And I'd best be back to my rounds. I have to check up on that miracle case you mentioned," I shot a teasing glance at Gregson, who shook his head at me and laughed, before I nodded at the women and moved to take my leave.

But a rough hand on my forearm stopped me in my tracks, I turned around surprised by the contact, and even more surprised to see Ruby standing merely inches away.

She blushed, such tempting blood under paper-thin skin. "Your collar is rumpled, Doctor Cullen," she murmured as she reached up to straighten it.

I caught her taking a deep breath of my scent, which I knew to be rather mesmerising to humans, but then she froze. It was only for a moment, and I doubt any of the others in the room even noticed it, but it was plainly obvious to me.

She pulled back slightly and looked up into my disapproving expression. Her lips pursed, then she gave a curt nod and walked away.

Slightly confused about the entire thing, I turned around to give Gregson a disapproving shake of my head, to which he snickered, before I finally left the room.

The smile didn't return to my face until a few hours later, when I heard Mable corner Ruby on the other side of the hospital.

"What was that all about? This morning, with Doctor Cullen's collar? Ruby! That was so brash!"

"You are not going to believe what I am about to tell you." Ruby whispered back, her voice filled with chagrin and anger.

"What is it?" Mable asked curiously.

"We are well aware that Doctor Cullen is the most marvellous smelling thing in this universe, yes?"

There was silence, Mable must have nodded.

"Well I got a good whiff of him this morning…" She paused, "_And _the woman's perfume that was on his shirt."

That made me more ecstatic that it probably should have, but my vampire nature couldn't help being over the moon, because she smelled Esme's scent on me. I realised then that the shirt I was wearing, had been one I leant Esme to used while hunting the previous week. I had no doubt that the rumours would soon start of Doctor Cullen's mysterious lover, but in that moment I didn't care, because I could smell Esme's scent too, and by God was it magnificent.

I headed home at seven in the morning, eager to see my family. Edward met me in the garage, he seemed very eager to see me too.

"We need to talk," he whispered.

_Edward, is everything all right?_ I was suddenly alarmed.

"Yes, yes, it's fine," he waved his hand offhandedly, "Esme and I had a lovely night, we discussed my classes a little more. Actually I discovered that she is much better at mathematics than I first envisioned. Quite brilliant really, if she was taught all the theory behind it, I daresay she'd be better than you and me."

I beamed; _She_ is_ brilliant, isn't she?_

He rolled his eyes, "Yes, yes, but that's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

I raised an eyebrow, _Then what is it?_

"It's her birthday next week, on Saturday."

I nodded, fully aware of the important date, but didn't reply.

He raised his eyebrows high, "Well, have you got her anything?"

I shook my head, _I keep meaning to go to the stores, but after my shift all I ever want to do is come back here. Being away from her is painful, Edward._

He favoured me with one of his perfect eye rolls, "Yes, but you _will_ get her something, won't you?"

I nodded, "Yes, and don't worry, I've already decided what it is."

He saw a picture of my intended gift in my mind, and grinned, "She'll love that."

_Yes, I think so too, at least, I hope so. Are you gifting her with anything?_

He nodded, but refused to tell me what, "I was really wondering how you'd thought to celebrate it?"

I sighed, "That was something I was hoping you could help me with. I can't think of anything, and a hunting trip really doesn't seem like the most enticing idea for her human birthday. Besides, there's only elk out in this weather, and she's almost as picky an eater as you are."

He grinned, "That's what I thought also."

"Perhaps we could show her around some of the prettier Ashland sights? Human's don't stray near the waterfalls at night." I mused.

He nodded, "I agree, she'd like that. Copper falls?"

"And Brownstone Falls, we could try Potato Falls too, although there's a higher risk of humans, Morgan Falls should be fine."

"That sounds like something she'd like. Speaking of things she'd like, perhaps we could take her to the fair tonight? Obviously not into the fair, but far enough away so we can see everything and not smell anything. Don't go downwind. If she catches a whiff, we'd be able to restrain her anyway."

I considered it for a moment, _It's risky Edward._

He gave me a half nod, "I know, I just thought it may make her happy."

I groaned, if there was one thing I could not refuse, it was the opportunity to make Esme happy. Edward knew this, he smirked, and I glared.

"Fine. We'll try."

He snickered, "Just keep imagining how her round ruby eyes will dance with muted light of excitement as the music and laughter reach her perfect little ears that sit snugly beneath the wisps of her silky caramel hair, and she'll whisper 'Oh, thank you Carlisle, you've made me so happy,' under the soft moonlight on the hill," he whispered mockingly.

"You've been reading too much Jane Austen, Edward." I teased back.

"No," he shook his head definitively, "I've been reading too much Carlisle Cullen."

I gave him an impish grin as we turned towards the house, "Did you have an eventful shift?" he queried halfway across the lawn.

_Now that you mention it…_ I began to relay the events of the night, only pausing to greet Esme, who was sitting in the study curled up on the chaise with her nose in _Grimm's Fairytales_ again.

She beamed up at me and asked me the same question that Edward had, so – much to Edward's disappointment – I began the story from the beginning, glad to have my family's listening ears.

I didn't endeavour to bore Esme with the events of my nights, but she always seemed interested, and there was no stopping me from telling her everything once she asked. She was a fantastic listener, that woman, which was one of the many things that I loved so dearly about her.

We stayed at the house all day for our very first Fourth of July as a family, mainly because we feared the lingering humans in the forest making the most of the holiday. I found myself gravitating towards Esme, my company that she never seemed to mind. I pretended to read, but really watched as she painted the three of us, side by side. Edward spent a great deal of the day at his piano, which was usual for him, but we also spent a lot of time as a family, discussing everything under the sun. We even teased Esme about our great plans for her birthday, which she revealed was something she hoped neither of us knew about. She managed, then, to get the truth out of Edward regarding his very own date of birth, which had passed exactly two weeks before. Esme was outraged that the day went unnoticed, but I knew Edward preferred it that way. I was glad that I was off the hook, for I didn't know which day I was born, but Esme, ever the surprise, demanded that I choose one to celebrate on.

When I politely refused, she stubbornly insisted, then announced that my birth would be celebrated on the first day of every single month, until I picked a date. She placed an old calendar on the table in front of me so I closed my eyes and pointed to one. I opened them immediately when the pair burst out laughing, to see my finger clearly pressed atop the 29th of February 1920.

"You just quartered your age, Carlisle!" Edward cried, "You're only 69 and a half!"

So the three of us spend most of the day enjoying the presence of family.

Edward continued to poke fun at my newly chosen birth date, even as we made our way to the fair later that night.

"So your birthday _half_-exists now. You're getting there, perhaps in another 278 years you can pick a new one that _fully_ exists."

Esme shook her head, "You can't change a birthday, Edward. It's been decided. And since the 29th of February only comes around every four years, on the other three we'll just have to celebrate the 28th," she murmured, "And the first of March, it only seems fair."

She wouldn't listen to my objections, so I let her have her fun.

Edward ran ahead to check that the spot we had selected was not downwind of the town.

When we were alone, Esme beamed up at me, so rashly, I grabbed her hand and twirled her around. I had found that one of her favourite things to do was dance. She giggled freely, as I pulled her closer and we created our own dance to the sound.

"You don't mind having a birthday, do you?" She queried quietly.

I shook my head, "I like it."

Her eyes lit up with happiness, "Good, I'm glad about that."

"But the 29th of February…" I teased.

"_I_ think it's funny," she giggled.

I grinned, "I do too. It seems fitting, in a way."

"You deserve a birthday."

"Once every four years," I winked.

She scrunched up her nose and closed her eyes in the most adorable gesture I had ever witnessed, and then she shook her head, "Seven times every four years," she gave me a dazzling grin.

"That doesn't seem fair."

"Life is not fair, Doctor Cullen. But it _is_ fitting that we celebrate your birth more than anyone else's because you are our linchpin and our leader, and we love you."

Her face was so close I could kiss her. I wanted to kiss her. Was I going to kiss her?  
Her lips were so plump and they looked so soft, they were beckoning me with every move. I had never allowed myself to stare at them for long periods of time before that moment, but I simply couldn't resist, because they were this delicate and perfect shade of pink, and the shape of them was textbook perfect…almost. Her bottom lip was the tiniest bit too full for her top, meaning that on the rare occasion that she wasn't speaking nor smiling, her lips fell into a natural pout. They were the exact fullness for their width and her philtral ridges came down from beneath her nose, to form a perfect little 'V' in her top lip. In my nearly three hundred years of living, I had never once seen lips so lovely, so perfect, or so kissable.

I only noticed in a tiny corner of my mind that she had stopped talking, I _barely_ noticed that I was slowly leaning my lips closer to hers and I _didn't_ notice that we had stopped twirling around.

"All clear!" Edward called from the distance, and that's when I realised Esme and I had stopped dancing, "Come on you two! What are you doing? We're going to be la…" Edward trailed off when he saw us in each other's arms, our faces only inches apart.

I blinked a few times and regained my composure, then took a step back from Esme.

"Sorry," my voice was low and husky, I hoped neither of them noticed, "We're coming."

I looked back down to Esme, who looked half dazed, but nodded none-the-less, "Coming," she whispered faintly.

Edward sighed and rolled his eyes, then turned on his heel and ran off. I looked down to Esme, who stole a glance at me, then tried to hide her grin, before she towed me after Edward into the shadows of the trees.

I was stunned and confused for a long time, trying to gauge how aware she was of what almost happened, and then trying to gauge how she felt about it. However, more than ever, she was a mystery to me.

We sat on the top of the hill and watched the fair. Esme's eyes danced with awe, and Edward murmured promises that I should have made, about how we would take her down to a fair one day. When the bonfire was lit I barely even noticed Edward's teasing jabs about my vampire hunting days, and I've not the slightest idea how I replied. But I _did_ notice when the fireworks began, and Esme's round ruby eyes came alive with the blazing light of excitement as she gazed to the sky to watch the explosives paint it, and at one point during the short display, she turned around to favour me with a brilliant smile, "Thank you, Carlisle," she whispered, then she leaned in and kissed me on the cheek.

For that very moment time ceased to exist, and everything in the world made sense, and in that very moment I _knew_ it was love, because my still heart just skipped a beat.

* * *

_A.N. The _almost _kiss... The torture. I hope you all enjoyed! Fingers crossed we get the real first kiss very soon, hey? ... No promises.  
Thank you all once again for your lovely reviews, they really make my day and encourage me to keep writing. Also a big thanks to all of you who have voted on the poll on my profile, it's still up, so make sure you vote if you haven't yet!  
__Welcome and thank you to all of my new followers and __favouriters. Next chapter should be up within the next few days!_


	20. Diamonds and Daisies

_Chapter Twenty: Diamonds and Daisies _

_Ashland, Wisconsin, July 1921_

_Carlisle_

It had been nearly two weeks since the Fourth of July, and I couldn't stop thinking about how it felt to have Esme's lips pressed up against my cheek. I could still feel them there, their soft delicateness compared to my marble skin. Of course, her skin was marble too, but it didn't seem that way to me, for her lips were the softest things I had ever felt. I missed them so much. I wished that she would kiss my cheek forever. There was no other form of Heaven I knew so potent or perfect for me. Perhaps that was because I knew not how it felt to have her soft lips pressed against mine.

In the nearly two weeks that followed our almost kiss in the forest, we had shyly separated ourselves with an appropriate distance at all times, but it was killing me inside.

As I drove the empty roads out toward our little house, I wondered if I would be brave enough to initiate an embrace today, her birthday. My stomach lurched at the thought. I had hugged her so many times before, but those hugs were to provide comfort not to express… love. Could I truly hug her and hide how I felt about it? I felt much too nervous to do so, so I spent a great deal of time hoping that _she _would want to hug me.

I saw Edward's face in the window as I drove up the driveway; his grin was small but excited, a rare but wondrous occurrence. He had yet to reveal to me what exactly the gift he had found for his adoptive mother was, but this was what I supposed to be the source of his excitement.

I parked the car in the garage, and headed inside, Esme's wrapped gift clutched between my two hands.

"Hello, Carlisle," Edward greeted me at the door.

"Edward," I nodded, "How was your night?"

"Quite pleasant, I'm still beating Esme at chess, but I've started teaching her more complex mathematics, which she's excelling at tremendously."

There was a small giggle from the doorway to the sitting room, "And she's here listening too, you know," Esme murmured, giving me a glowing smile.

She stood with her hands on either side of the doorway, balanced on one foot, dangling the other just above the floor in the hallway, as though she wanted to come in, but wasn't sure she should.

I grinned back at her lovingly, "Happy Birthday."

She lowered her eyes to the floor, "Thank you," she smiled shyly.

"I said happy birthday at midnight, Carlisle, you're a little slow."

I flicked a grin to the boy by my side who snickered slightly. "Well I do apologise for my tardiness, perhaps I can be the first to present the lady with a gift then?"

He shrugged, "If that would please you, but mine is better."

"You both ought not to have gotten me anything, but since you have, it's not a competition." Esme interjected.

Edward shrugged, "The thought of being able to spend eternity spoiling you is exceptionally enticing to the both of us, so please don't think we'll ever not give you a gift on your birthday," he favoured her with a gleaming smile, "And it's always going to be a competition," he glanced at me mischievously, "Come on then! Let's see who wins." He chuckled to himself quietly.

I shook my head fondly, and watched Esme move from the doorway to let Edward through, her eyes sparkled with love.

She looked up to me and let out a quiet laugh, "Did you have a good shift?"

I nodded, "Although I would have preferred to be home, I've yet to witness one of these chess matches."

She sighed, "Of that, I am glad. How horribly embarrassing it would be to have you see just how miserably I lose."

I felt a pang of an emotion I couldn't identify when I realised she cared what I thought of her. I grinned back, "One day."

She shook her head and laughed as she walked into the sitting room.

Edward occupied the armchair, leaving the lounge for Esme and I; I momentarily wondered what the reasoning behind this action was, could he really be that supportive of the relationship I dreamed of beginning with Esme?

He favoured me with a lopsided grin.

We took our seats together, side-by-side, and I handed her the wrapped package in my hand.

She sighed in submission but grinned up at me, "Thank you."

"You are most welcome."

Edward drummed his fingers on his knee impatiently, "Perhaps you should have handed yours first, Edward?" I murmured.

He shrugged, "Perhaps."

"Patience is a virtue, Edward," Esme reminded him.

"Yes," he agreed, "One I was never very adept with."

She laughed lovingly as she opened the little note on the top of my gift and read the card. Her grinn widened as she read the words, "My favourite part of birthdays was always the cards, unfortunately I never met anyone who was remotely creative in what they wrote, and instead just preferred to write _Wishing you a happy Birthday,_" she looked up to me, "So thank you." She looked to Edward, "And for future references, a card is enough."

He laughed humourlessly, "Not going to happen."

She sighed, and then turned back to me, "He's been going on about it all night."

I laughed, "I don't recall ever seeing him quite this excited."

She pursed her lips, "Then I suppose I am happy that I inadvertently brought this about."

Edward rolled his eyes and sighed exasperatedly, "Are you going to open that?"

"Yes, don't rush me, it's rude," she gave Edward her most stern motherly glare but it was marred by her dimpled smile, so he grinned back.

She gently tore off the paper on the gift, and stared down at it blankly for a moment, before a slow smile spread across her face. She looked up at me, her face so filled with such absolute and sincere happiness that I had never once imagined truly existed outside of the imagination. She was so beautiful as she sat there looking over at me, with her pink lips split into a wide grin slowing her perfectly white teeth, her full cheeks pinched by dimples that appeared even when she talked, her eyes made smaller with the glee of her smile, and sparkling with the light of a love, which I couldn't decipher the type of, with her caramel curls pinned back into a bun, but wisps of them falling around her ears in ringlets. God, she was so beautiful.

"Carlisle… Thank you." She whispered, "It's perfect."

I raised my eyebrows, confusion shrouding my senses as I wondered what she was thanking me for. My eyes dropped to the book in her hands. It was an early edition of _Beauty and The Beast. _I was amazed when I had actually been able to find such an old edition that was in such good condition, the bindings were still tight, and the pages still smelled fresh as though they were new, not yet being cursed with the must and mould of damp pages.

"You're welcome," I smiled with a nod, "There's both the original French version and an English translation," she flicked through the pages, "So you'll be able to tell us which one is better."

She giggled, "It's beautiful, Carlisle."

"How thoughtful," Edward grinned mischievously, "Let's just pretend there was a long moment of sentimentality and shared conversation and now you're ready to open mine," although his words were forward, he didn't move to hand his gift over.

Esme shook her eyes but grinned none the less, "You're far too eager, Edward."

He raised an eyebrow, "Can you blame me? I don't like celebrating my birthday, and up until two weeks ago, Carlisle didn't have one, so I've almost forgotten what they're like. I do think you'll like this, but I must admit, my card isn't quite as nice as Carlisle's." He looked down and toyed with the brown envelope in his hands.

Esme touched his knee, "I'm sure that I will love it, but Carlisle did set the standard high."

For a very brief moment, Edward's eyes met Esme's and there was a silent exchange I didn't quite understand, his lips turned up at the edges in amusement, and she sighed a minuscule sigh, and then shook her head the slightest bit.

That, however, didn't matter to me at all, because she then turned around to favour me with another smile before she scooted closer to me and wrapped me in a hug. My arms reflexively wrapped themselves tightly around her small frame, as though it was the most natural thing for them to do. She was so small to my larger frame, so delicate and seemingly fragile, but she was safe in the amour my body provided her with. Of course, she was safe in the amour her impenetrable skin provided her with, but I was much more at ease with her in my arms than anywhere else. I could sit in that moment for thousands of years, just holding her, we would putrefy, of course, but I would be happy. I never wanted to let her go.

Her face rested gently pressed against my shoulder, and mine in hers. I took steady breaths inhaling her scent, and swearing it to memory. Her hair held a slightly different smell; it was fruitier than the rest of her body, as though the peach, apricot, passion fruit and leafy mandarins were more concentrated in her caramel tendrils of hair. The peach especially. I think if I were human, peach would be my favourite food.

I noticed as I held her, that she made no move to release me, and her breaths were just as controlled and frequent as mine, more frequent than usual. I let my mind get dizzy on the idea that my own cinnamon-pear-and-fresh-air scent was just as potent and addictive to her as her floral-fruit scent was to me.

It wasn't until Edward's big inhalation of breath, which had a distinct 'I'm Still Here' sound to it, woke me from my daze that I realised I'd have to let go of Esme. She began to reluctantly pull back at the same moment I did, and I caught a small grin on her lips as she scooted back to her seat.

"Okay, Edward." She smiled up at him, "My undivided attention is all yours."

He scoffed, "Undivided attention"

_Edward._ I mentally chided.

He murmured an apology and then fashioned a brilliant grin, "Happy birthday, mom!"

She beamed at his use of words as she took the small gift he handed her. She picked up the card first, and removed it from the envelope, then she beamed back at Edward, "You're too sweet for your own good."

He snickered.

She picked up the small gift and delicately tore the wrapping paper off, to reveal a small square box.

She raised an eyebrow at him before pinching either side of the lid and opening it. I heard a soft intake of breath as her eyes fell upon the diamond earrings that sat in the delicate blue silk.

"Edward," she whispered breathlessly, "They're beautiful."

He grinned, obviously receiving his intended reaction and making me feel as though my gift was somewhat inferior as he predicted. He sent me a sympathetic grin with a little too much triumph in his eyes to ever be fully sincere.

_I'll beat you someday, son._

Surprisingly he gave me a look that plainly said, 'Yes, I'm sure you will.'

That made me feel a lot better.

Edward cleared his throat, "They were actually my biological mother's, but she rarely ever wore them, she claimed they pinched her ears too much, which is actually what they seem to intend to do. She was a smart woman, but I do remember her coming out with some daft things at times."

Esme's eyes were round and wide, "Your mothers? Oh, Edward, I can't accept these."

He gave her a shrug, "Why not? I want you to have them; I've no one else to give them to anyway. It's not as though Carlisle and I would wear them."

Esme tilted her head to the side slightly, and closed the lid of the box, "You'll find a girl someday that you want to marry, you could give them to her."

He laughed and interjected, "I doubt that's ever going to happen."

Esme continued, "It's just I don't want you to feel as though I… I…"

All of a sudden Edward was on his knees before her, holding her hands that still clung to the small earring box, "Esme," he whispered softly, "I loved my mother like I loved nobody else. I was the center of her universe, and she was all I had. I never wanted a different mother, she was the perfect one for me, but my mother is dead now, and up until a few months ago, I never thought I would ever love someone the way that I loved her, but then _you_ came. I will always insist to you that I don't _need_ parents to look after me, so I'll never freely admit that sometimes all I want is a hug from my mom. You've given me that. You are more loving and caring than I deserve, more understanding and sympathetic than I ever thought possible, and if I could choose one person to have as my mother for the rest of time, it's _you. _I _want_ you to be my mom, because I _love_ you as my mom. I want you to have those earrings, not that there's really anywhere for you to wear them… Someday there will be… And I want you to know that I'll never think of you as a replacement for my mother, I'll always think of you as my second mother. I'm the luckiest son that there ever was, to have the two best mothers that there ever could be."

Esme tumbled down into Edward's arms, flinging her arms around his neck and sobbing.

His face contorted in pain, "Newborn strength," he coked.

I watched as she loosened her grip slightly but still clung onto him for dear life.

_That was sweet, Edward._

He glowered at me.

_Perhaps sweet was the wrong word. That was very kind and thoughtful of you, Edward._

He nodded at me grinning; I had to suppress a chuckle.

"Whatever you do though mom, don't wear them out tonight. They're 18 Karat gold, and two Karat diamonds."

I watched as Esme's eyes widened in – what I was surprised to see as – alarm. "Edward," she whispered, trying to hand the box back to him, "I really can't have these now. They'd be worth a fortune."

He shrugged, "Try not to lose them," he gave her a lopsided grin and refused to take back the box.

She looked at him, panicked, and then turned to me, panicked. Her distress made me distressed. "Don't worry," I murmured, "You won't loose them. If the clasps get loose we'll just tighten them."

She shook her head, "Tell him I can't take them."

"But you can…"

She shook her head even faster, "No! It's too much!"

Edward laughed, "You can't seriously tell me that you've never had any expensive before."

She stared back at him seriously, but his expression quickly turned outraged.

"One necklace? That's all. One necklace from your grandparents? You mean to tell me that your ex-husband, who was rather well off, never bought you anything?"

"Of course he didn't," she whispered.

Anger coursed through my veins, Edward shook his head looking as though he'd be growling if he weren't in the same room as his mother.

"In that case, I have more heirlooms upstairs –"

"No." She said definitively, as her fingers tightened on the little box, "It's the thought that matters not the worth of the gift. Thank you for these Edward, they mean more to me that you could ever know."

His eyes softened, "You're welcome. I meant what I said before, we love giving you things." His eyes glinted impishly, "And speaking of gift worth, shall I not tell you how much Carlisle spent on that book of yours?"

Her eyes widened slightly so I shot him a glare before she faced me, "It wasn't a lot, was it?"

"Well it _is _an antique," Edward murmured.

I sighed, and gave her a reassuring smile, "It didn't break the banks."

She looked slightly pained, but soon smiled in resignation, "I'm just going to have to get used to this, aren't I?"

We both nodded eagerly in reply, so she giggled, and somehow wrapped us both in a hug. We indulged her by not protesting.

"I love you both so very much," she whispered sincerely.

I could almost feel my heart fly away from my body with euphoria in that moment, so I smiled, "And we love you just the same."

She was grinning when we all pulled away, and naturally so were Edward and I. Edward moved back to the armchair and faced Esme expectantly, "So, any more guesses yet?"

I raised an eyebrow, confused, so Esme let out a giggle and explained, "Edward has been trying to get me to guess what it is we will all be doing tonight in celebration."

"Ah, of course. With any success?" I wondered.

"Well I'd like to think she would have guessed by now, if she hadn't been giving me joking answers all night."

"Perhaps, Edward," Esme murmured, "I _want_ it to be a surprise."

Edward rolled his eyes, "Nobody likes surprises."

"What have you guessed so far?" I asked Esme.

Edward surprised me by laughing, "We've had everything from meeting Dracula,"

"And Saint Nicolas," Esme chirped.

"To visiting Atlantis,"

"And the North Pole,"

"And the South Pole,"

"In the same night," they chuckled.

"Swimming around the world," Edward grinned.

"Dancing on the moon," Esme almost sang.

"Hunting whales,"

"Carving talking toys,"

"Finding fairies," Edward rolled his eyes.

At this point I was laughing so much I'd have been in tears had I been human. Esme's sweet melodious laugh joined in with mine, as well as Edward's rare chuckle.

"It sounds like you two had an eventful night then," I murmured once I had sobered up.

Edward shrugged, "I'd like some real guesses. Using logic."

"I'm sure you would," teased Esme.

"Carlisle is interested too," Edward informed her.

She turned to me with eyebrows raised, I nodded slightly, so she sighed and her expression turned thoughtful.

I liked knowing that she relented when she knew it was something that would make me happy. Perhaps my feelings weren't quite so unrequited.

Oh, I daren't hope, in fear I was wrong.

"Well, obviously it doesn't involve humans," Esme mused, "So that puts most things out, and I don't think we'll be going too far, so that limits our activities as well… Hunting is too obvious a choice, yes?"

We nodded, "No hunting," Edward confirmed.

"Something outside?"

I nodded.

"In the forest?"

"Sort of."

"Sort of?" She queried.

"Well, it is in the forest, but the forest isn't the main focus." Edward replied cryptically.

"Hmmm… Something to do with the lake?" She mused.

Edward's face lit up in surprise, "Oh! You're right! No, not about the lake, about the bathing suits." He turned to gaze at me, "What if we want to swim? None of us have bathing suits."

"Not the lake but still the water?" Esme mused.

"Hmmm, I think some stores open in Duluth on Saturday mornings now, if we really want swimming costumes you could drive up and get some, it looks as though it won't be too overcast today though… We could just wear old clothes." _But Esme…_

I mused, he nodded.

"I'll go to Duluth, and try to find something. Don't worry, I'll be cautious," he added to my worries of the sun.

I nodded in agreement, "Perhaps not those new tight fitting one pieces though," I felt nauseous at the thought, _They cling like a second skin… I'd feel indecent. _A picture of Esme's face upon seeing Edward and I in tight fitting swimwear jumped into my thoughts. Edward recoiled.

"I agree."

"So do I," Esme cut in.

Edward looked at her bewilderedly, "Pardon me?"

She giggled, "The swimwear they have nowadays is atrocious. I refuse to wear anything like that."

Edward's brow furrowed, "Honestly?"

She nodded.

They both shared expressions of disgust.

"I think I missed something…" I murmured.

Edward winced, "Women have taken to wearing very similar swimsuits to men."

I understood immediately his reluctance at sharing this piece of information, for a very indecent picture of Esme, standing in a figure-hugging outfit sprung into my head. I tried not to groan when the image refused to go away, and I began to feel a slight tickling sensation in my abdomen. I could tell Edward was trying not to groan also, he really didn't want to see his mother the way that I secretly did. But I didn't want her to be uncomfortable.

Edward turned back to Esme, "I'm sure there'll be something else. I had better get going, to get there before they close. What is the time? Eight thirty? Yes, I'll make it before twelve." He stood up, his sudden eagerness I guess stemmed from my sudden enthusiasm for bathing suits.

Mentally apologising, I bid him farewell.

Then Esme and I were alone.

She looked up to me smiling, "So it has something to do with water?"

I chuckled, "I thought you liked surprises?"

She grinned, "I do, but now I'm curious."

"How about I address something else, first?" I proposed.

Her eyebrows raised, "Hmmm?"

I grinned impishly, and gestured towards the window, "It's sunny outside."

She gasped, and looked to me in surprise, "Really?"

I nodded, "If you want to."

"Like diamonds?" She queried, glancing down to the small box in her lap.

"Like diamonds." I confirmed.

"But it's safe?"

I nodded.

"Can we sit in it?" She wondered.

I shrugged, "Sure."

Her eyes flickered to the book I had given her; a small smile spread across her face, so she swapped the box for the book then turned to me and smiled, "Okay."

"Let's go," I grinned, and held out my hand for her to take, which she did gladly, tucking the book under one arm.

I led her into the kitchen, where she paused for a moment, staring at the sun that drenched the porch.

"I can go first, if you'd like?" I offered.

She looked to me with apprehension in her eyes, I smiled and moved to go, but her hand held mine tighter. I gently touched her face with my free hand, "It's all right," I murmured, and placed a chaste kiss upon her forehead without really thinking about it first. Her breath caught in her throat, I smiled then dropped her hand and backed away to the door. I pulled it open and stepped out into the sunlight letting her see clearly why we could never be near humans on days like these.

Her eyes widened, and her mouth fell slightly ajar in that natural pout I so dearly loved. I smiled at her expression and held my hand out to her, beckoning for her to follow, which she slowly did, her eyes still filled with awe.

Seeing Esme in the sun was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen. It wasn't just that her skin reflected the light in a thousand different ways, so she truly did look like she was made out of diamonds, but her hair shone gold in the sunlight. Pure gold. Gold like my eyes.

"You should have worn your earrings," I murmured.

She blinked a few times, as though waking herself from a daze, "Hmmm?"

"You should have worn your earrings," My grin was wide, "They would have matched you perfectly."

She cocked an eyebrow, "How so?"

I raised my hand to her face, and stroked her cheek with the back of my fingers, "Diamonds," I moved my hand to tuck a wayward thread of her hair behind her ear, "Gold."

She smiled demurely, "Your hair is gold, not mine."

"I disagree," I smiled, "My hair is far too light to be gold, but in the sun, yours is exactly the same shade as your eyes soon will be. In fact, they're less ruby every day."

They lit up with excitement, "Do you think so?"

I nodded, to which she favoured me with a wide smile.

"Is it too dangerous for us to sit in the sun?" She wondered.

I looked around the property, "I shouldn't think so, but perhaps we should sit by the shade over there," I pointed to the trees, "Just in case."

She nodded, so we walked hand in hand to the spot we had chosen, not once taking our eyes of one another. It was easy, in that moment, to convince myself that she was in love with me also, because she looked at me with such awe and wonder, I was sure it must reflect the way I stared at her.

I was about to sit down, when I felt an excited tug on my hand, Esme pointed to a spot not far from where we stood, that was devoid of any grass but had daisies.

I let out a chuckle as she pulled me over to the patch of little white flowers.

"They're weeds, you know," I murmured as she took a seat and I followed.

She nodded, "Some of the only weeds that I like."

"You can't just pick and choose what weeds you like and do not like," I teased.

She raised her face defiantly, "People pick and choose which people they like and do not like. Weeds don't have feelings, but people do."

I looked across at her awestruck, "Very true." I lay back against the flowers, "I like daisies too."

She giggled, "Then why are you crushing them!"

"Would you like me to hop back up so you can pick them all and I'll lie in dust?"

She nodded, "Yes, please."

"You haven't the slightest idea how endearing you are," I murmured but made no move to sit back up.

She sighed and shook her head, "Men."

I sighed and did the same, "Women."

She giggled. I laughed. It was perfection.

She sat with her legs folded, and turned to face me so my body ran horizontally in front of hers.

"Carlisle?" She murmured.

"Yes?"

"Will you read to me?" Her voice was quiet.

I smiled up at her tenderly, "Of course I will."

She handed me the book, and I watched her as I opened the cover, smiling affectionately down at me, "In English?" I queried, faced with text in French.

"Yes please," she murmured.

"And French afterward?"

She giggled and nodded, so I flicked to the English story, and cleared my throat, "There was once a very rich merchant, who had six children, three sons, and three daughters; being a man of sense, he spared no cost for their education, but gave them all kinds of masters…"

Esme giggled.

I raised an eyebrow in question.

"Your British accent is one of my most favourite things in the whole world," she giggled. Then all of a sudden, her face fell, and she looked away in embarrassment. I wished she wouldn't, how I'd love her to know that _she _was my most favourite thing in the whole world.

"Well in that case…" I carried on the story indulging her with the voice of my youth, over the moon that she something about me was favorable to her.

As I read I watched her pick the daisies and somehow weave them together in some sort of chain. She moved slowly, at human pace, and always wore a subdued smile. It was the most peaceful and tranquil look I had seen on her face, and it made me greatly happy to see her so content. When her chain was rather long, she fastened it into a ring that looked somewhat like a necklace, or a crown. Her eyes fell on my face, and I smiled, still reading the story. She grinned mischievously and leant forward to place the daisies on my head.

I raised my eyes to meet hers, grinning as I noticed that she was attempting to hold in her giggles, "And what is this for?" I queried.

"Decoration," she giggled.

"Am I not pretty enough without it?" I teased.

She scrunched up her face as she let the giggles free, "Oh, you are. You're very pretty without it, Mr. Genius."

"Well thank you," I winked, setting her giggles off even more, "Do you get one also?"

She grinned, "If you keep reading then perhaps I will."

"In that case," I lowered my eyes back to the book and continued reading.

Once her crown was securely atop her head, and _Beauty and the Beast_ had been read, in both French and English multiple times, she lay by my side gazing at the sun, her beautiful features set in a pensive expression.

"What are you thinking about?" I murmured.

She turned her head sideway to face me, our noses only inches apart, "I fear you wouldn't much like to know." She looked sad.

"I fear you're wrong, it's quite the opposite. I envy Edward's ability when it comes to you."

She gave me a small smile, "Am I not an open book?"

I sighed, "How I wish you were."

She scanned my face for a moment, perhaps looking for the eagerness somewhere, then she breathed a sad sigh, "I was thinking about my son."

My heart ached as it broke in pain, "Esme, I'm sorry."

She shook her head, "Thank you, it's just I miss him a lot today. Today has made me realize exactly how much I love both you and Edward, how truly you both are family to me, but he's family too, and he can't be here.  
"But that's not the main cause of my sorrow, I'm upset because I know I'm going to be all right, and there's a lot of guilt that comes with that. He never got to live a life, and now I have two, it all seems horribly unfair. I wish so much I could have had those important moments with him, to watch him grow, teach him to walk, to talk, send him to school, and give him so much love… When I think of him now, it's not the same kind of pain anymore. It's not a drowning and suffocating pain every minute of every day. It's more of an aching and throbbing pain now. I used to think of him always, but now I only think of him two hundred odd times a day. I suppose it will get to a point where I'll only think of him once a day, but I never want to forget him. Of course, that would be less painful, but sometimes love _is_ painful, and that's how you know it's real and true."

"Esme," I turned onto my side and cupped her face in my hand, gently stroking it with my thumb, "I wish I had have been there, I wish I had have known that you were there. I would have done everything I could have to save him for you. So you would never have lost him, so you would have never had to know this pain."

"Oh, Carlisle," she whispered, "If that had have happened, I don't know what I would have done, I don't think I could have ever let you g –"

"I had to park the car on the side of the road on my way to Duluth because it got too sunny, but it was more overcast up there, so I just ran back once I had got the clothes. I think you'll like them, don't worry, they're not that horrible clingy material or style. I'll go back and fetch the car later on. I parked it somewhere that no one will be able to see it, so don't worry Carlisle; I didn't just leave $4,259 waiting in a ditch for any old Joe Bloggs to get it… Oh," Edward's voice from the forest interrupted what she was going to say, as glad as I was to have my son home, I inwardly cursed his horrid timing. That was _twice _now. Edward stood at the fringe of the forest gazing down at us, "I can just go…"

"No, Edward, sorry. Don't mind us. We were just talking." Esme gave me a sad smile, patted my hand and then sat up, "You put the car somewhere safe?"

I rubbed my face roughly with my hands and tried to expel the annoyance I felt over the interruption.

"Uh, yes. There was a ditch in a nearby forest."

I laughed humorlessly, "You only did that because you want to have a reason to complain about the car, and make me feel obliged to by another one."

"That's very untrue," Edward shot me a glare, "Although, you do know, Doctor Cullen can _not _be seen driving to work in a _scratched_ car."

I gave Edward an exaggerated eyeroll as I heaved myself up into a sitting position, "And let me guess, the poor car is covered in scratches?"

He shrugged, "I only noticed a few."

I sighed, and Esme smiled, "Now, now, boys. It's just a car."

I gave her a lopsided grin, and closed my eyes, waiting for the lecture from Edward to begin, "Now Esme, it's not _'just a car' _it's an incredible machine, a brilliant piece of technology and supurb workmanship…"

And that is how the rest of the afternoon was spent, I didn't get another moment alone with Esme to finish our conversation, but perhaps she'd mention it again that night. I only hoped that the stars and the moon would be clear in the night sky, as we showed her the wonders of Wisconsin waterfalls…

* * *

_A.N. Sorry for the late update, this chapter is a long one, so the next one will pick up near where this one left off, because I didn't want it to turn into a 7,000 word piece._

_Thanks again for all your support! x_


	21. The Lakeside and Waterfalls at Midnight

_Chapter Twenty-One: By The Lakeside and Waterfalls at Midnight _

_Ashland, Wisconsin, July 1921_

_Esme_

The moonlight painted the world black and white. The running water that collided with the rocks was brilliant silver, while the once blue water was the darkest shade of black. We arrived at the Copper Falls State Park a little after ten o'clock that night, wearing our new bathing suits. The boys were wearing shorts and short-sleeved cotton shirts, without any shoes or socks. I was almost embarrassed when I came downstairs to see them in such a state of undress, not because I didn't like it, believe you me, I _liked _it, but I could almost hear my mother scolding me for liking seeing Carlisle like that so much. It felt somewhat sinful… but I truthfully didn't care. He looked _that_ good. I might have suffered a heart attack should I have possessed a beating heart.

Second best to the way he looked in his swimming attire, was how he looked at me in mine. Edward – or the storekeeper – had chosen a very nice outfit for me to bathe in. I couldn't decide if it was a very long top, or a very short dress, made of navy blue material with a bow atop my chest, which sat atop tight fitting blue shorts. The top or dress, I was inclined to believe the former, fell to half way up my thigh, and the shorts stopped just above the knee. Although for swimwear it was not indecent, in fact it was probably rather modest, I felt as though I may have been naked, the way his eyes looked at me when I first appeared. Ever the gentleman he quickly looked away, but I grinned, I liked him looking at me that way. For the rest of the night – side from one time – I only ever noticed his eyes on my face.

We visited Brownstone Falls first, which was in the Copper Falls State Park, and Edward was naturally the first in the water. He didn't even wait a moment before catapulting himself into the pool below the majestic falling sheets.

"I've never seen a waterfall before," my high ringing voice was out of place in the serenity.

Carlisle looked to me and smiled, "Do you like them?"

I nodded, "Very much."

I heard Edward chuckle from the water, "Yes, that would make you win, but I don't think it's possible."

I looked between the two boys, "What did I miss out on just then?"

Edward grinned at us mischievously, and Carlisle groaned, before plunging into the water himself, "Carlisle was contemplating buying you a waterfall one birthday."

I couldn't stop the ridiculously large smile that spread across my face at the thought of the beautiful doctor wanting to spoil _me._

"Are you coming in?" Edward teased.

I laughed and nodded, then walked over to the edge of the water and dangled my toes in the warm liquid.

"It's only warm because we're frozen, you know? And aren't you going to jump?" Edward asked playfully, but as I was about to answer, his face fell slack.

"Edward, are you all right?"

Carlisle resurfaced then, "What's wrong?"

Edward shook his head, "This wasn't a good idea," he murmured.

Suddenly, I held my breath, _Humans?_

"No, no humans." He said lifelessly.

I tentatively took breath and tasted the air, just to be sure, but there were no humans around.

"Edward, what is the matter?" Carlisle swam over to his side.

Edward gave him an almost exasperated look, and then eyed me cautiously.

_Did I do something wrong?_

He shook his head.

"Then what is it, Edward?"

He sighed, "It just occurred to me, how insensitive this was."

My brow furrowed, I didn't understand, but Carlisle apparently did, because I heard him murmur a quiet, "Oh."

Edward nodded, "Yes."

A silent conversation – that I wasn't a part of but believed I was the topic of – ensued. Then Carlisle turned to me, "You do like the waterfalls, don't you?"

I nodded carefully, "Yes, why?"

He quickly swam over to me, and stopped in front of my feet, "It's just that… Edward was worried because of… well… the cliff… and jumping…" His eyes betrayed his worry too. I was touched at their concern for me, but I couldn't stop the giggle that bubbled in my throat.

"I do not associate waterfalls with the cliff I jumped off." Relief flooded Carlisle's face, but Edward was still unconvinced, I sighed, "Edward, you are possibly the singular most pessimistic person I have ever encountered. Please, believe me. I hold that cliff in my mind with mixed feelings. Pain, because it symbolises what I lost as a human, but happiness because it symbolises what I gained as a vampire. You must understand that these passed few months, although hard at points, have been the best months of my life. I'm not about to avoid every single hill, or cliff on Earth just because that is how my human life ended. I am not sad that I died, or nearly did, what have you be, I am only sad I lost my son. That is all, and he would still be gone, cliff or no cliff."

Carlisle gave me a small smile, but Edward's face was still upset.

"The day you discover that nothing in our world is one dimensional, will be the day that all of my dreams come true, Edward." I shot him a humorous smile, and he finally grinned.

"You'll be waiting a while on that one, me thinks."

I shrugged, "I have eternity."

I grinned down at Carlisle, whose return smile was positively gleaming and then all of a sudden some ghastly sea monster grabbed a hold of my foot and tried to eat it with its million sharp and vicious teeth.

Edward doubled over laughing and Carlisle tried to stifle snickers as the sea monster engulfed my other foot and I squealed.

"My feet!" I exclaimed, squirming about.

"Are being tickled," Carlisle teased.

I stopped squirming, and fixed a glare upon his face, "You are going to wish you never did that, Doctor."

He grinned in anticipation, "Is that a threat, little apple?"

"Yes, and you should be very afraid."

He raised an eyebrow trying to look unfazed, but all the while trying not to smile, "And why is that?"

I leaned in close to his face, my nose almost touching his, "Because," I whispered as menacingly as I could, and watched his eyes light up with glee, "I am a _vampire_."

Then I pushed him back into the water as I fell in with a splash.

We spent a few hours at Brownstone Falls, jumping down the rocks, attempting to slide, pushing each other in, and having a splendid time. But when midnight came, we moved on to Copper Falls, and did much the same activities as before.

We arrived at Potato Falls at around three in the morning, and discovered that they were the easiest to slide down. Edward began to talk of visiting Niagara Falls someday, an idea that had Carlisle and I enticed. We visited Morgan Falls on the way home, in the Chequamegon National Forest, about an hour out of Ashland, where we relaxed and watched the sun rise behind the clouds that had formed during the night.

"I had a wondrous night tonight, thank you both." I murmured, as I swam slowly on my back.

"It was very fun, wasn't it?" Carlisle mused.

"We should do this more often," Edward agreed, "What do you think, the only vampire coven in the world who don't go hunting on birthdays?"

Carlisle laughed, "I'd say we're the only vampire coven in the world who actually celebrate birthdays."

"Well I'd say we're the only vampire family in the world," I added.

Edward and Carlisle both gave me a big grin, "And to that we agree," Edward murmured.

"There you go talking for me again!" Carlisle laughed.

Edward sighed theatrically, "It's just so much easier than having to wait for you to speak."

"So my voice is annoying now, is it?"

"Sometimes, " Edward shrugged, holding in his laughter quite amicably.

They spent the rest of the morning bickering jovially.

* * *

_Two Weeks Later _

_Ashland, Wisconsin, July 1921_

Carlisle and I sat in the study together, he reading a medical text, me reading _Beauty and The Beast_, again. Our morning had been devoid of Edward – who left as soon as Carlisle arrived home, muttering something about Duluth – but dotted with pleasant, and often teasing conversation. There had never been anyone I had come across, whose company made me as comfortable as Carlisle's, but I was sure he had that impact on everybody.  
Edward waltzed back into the room at a quarter to ten, wearing an exceptionally proud grin, and holding a brown box. "Today I have purchased a very exciting object."

Carlisle's brow furrowed, "Should I be worried?"

Edward shrugged, "Well I did borrow your wallet."

Carlisle raised an eyebrow, "How much was it?"

Edward pursed his lips, "$79.00."

Carlisle laughed, "Whatever it is, you chose the most expensive one, didn't you?"

"No!" Edward shook his head histrionically, "It's limited edition! They're only making them for a few months."

"All right." Carlisle sighed acquiescently, "What is it?"

"A Number One Autographic, Kodak Special Camera, B Model."

"A camera?" I exclaimed, to which Edward laughed.

"Yes, a camera. Would you like to help me set it up?" He looked far too eager about the idea of new technology.

I laughed, "I daren't do anything of the sort. I am still a newborn, remember? I don't think you'd ever forgive me should I break it before you get to use it."

"Very true," Edward nodded, "Carlisle?"

"Since it _is_ mine…" He teased, to which Edward grinned, so the two boys rolled up their sleeves and cleared Carlisle's desk, before opening the box and pulling out all of the little pieces.

I watched from afar as the boys eagerly analysed every single part of the camera, making guesses as to how it all worked. However, they seemed to be dismantling it, rather than actually assembling it.

"Isn't the point of setting it up, actually getting it to work, not philosophising how every little piece will have a pivotal role in changing life as we know it?" I asked at one point.

Edward ignored me, but Carlisle turned around to grin, "That's the thing though," he teased, "We have to understand every single part before we can use it just so when the day comes that these little objects do change life as we know it, we can say we saw that coming."

I shook my head and buried it in my hands, laughing.

"How has the hospital been lately?" Edward murmured as he closely inspected what he had playfully theorised to be a light bulb.

"Much the same as usual," Carlisle was examining the lens with a cloth and I wasn't entirely sure they would be able to put the poor machine back together again.

Edward shot me a wary look, "So much doubt, dear mother. What happened to your optimism?"

I grinned, "There is a fine line between optimism and insanity, and I'd rather not cross it."

His mouth pulled up in a lopsided grin, "Too late."

I shot Carlisle a playful glare when I heard him snickering away.

"I got a letter from a distant relative the other day, the post office received it from my home in Chicago." Edward murmured.

"Yes?"

"He wants to see me. He's been looking into my death. I think he wants the inheritance."

Carlisle put the lens down on the desk, "We'll that's a bother."

Edward nodded, "I know. I've never even heard of the man before."

Carlisle shook his head, "Money is slowly destroying the world."

"Isn't that the truth, except I wouldn't say slowly. What do you think I should do?"

Carlisle considered it, "I'm really not sure."

"Write back to him using a fake hospital address from somewhere overseas," I suggested, "And say that you have a horrendous case of tuberculosis, but the doctors are confident that you'll make a full recovery. However due to the contagious nature of your disease and your foreign location you are unfit for any visits, and will be for some time to come."

The boys turned to face me; their expressions were filled with surprise, "I never thought you, of all people, would be so practised in the art of deception." Edward's voice mimicked his expression, yet he looked somewhat impressed.

I sighed, "Unfortunately it is a necessary skill for every woman to learn."

"And here I thought that it was men who were sneaky."

I grinned mischievously, "And that's exactly what we want you to think."

Carlisle chuckled and picked the lens back up, "I think that's a good idea. Any doctor would tell him to stay far away from a man with tuberculosis."

"Well that was easier than I thought. What hospital should I say it's from?"

I smirked, "Germany would be your safest bet."

The boys chuckled, "That is very true. He wouldn't dare go there. Nobody would, not so soon after the war," Edward mused.

"Your face says a different thing," I murmured.

He shook his head, "No, I was just thinking about how I won't be able to go and fight in the next one either."

"The next one?" I queried.

He shrugged, "There's bound to be another one, humans can't stand to be peaceful. History is dotted with wars."

"So we live in the moment, and relish in the fact that there isn't one now," Carlisle interjected softly, I was saddened by the thought of how many wars he would have seen.

"Do vampires have wars?" I wondered.

Carlisle nodded, "In the southern states the newborn wars still wage. They used to be worse, before I was created, but the Volturi stepped in. They're still going on, but they're not as bad."

"What are they fighting over?"

"Territory." The boys began to piece the camera back together, "Up north here, you'll rarely find a large coven, only nomads or mated pairs."

"So we're an oddity," Edward grinned.

Carlisle laughed, "For many reasons, yes. I always check that there are no covens occupying an area before I move… or we move I should say."

More sadness panged at my chest when I was reminded of how long he spent alone.

Edward clapped him on the back, "Yes, now you have us. You shouldn't go forgetting that, old man."

Carlisle gave Edward a look I didn't understand, and then Edward began to laugh. Carlisle sighed and looked to the object on the table, that they had somehow, miraculously, pieced back together, "We should really try this out."

"I'm not convinced it will work anymore," I teased.

He grinned, "Then we should really, really try it out."

"Oh yes," agreed Edward, "Let's climb to the tops of the trees and dangle by a single finger then scatter the photographs all around town."

Carlisle sighed, and looked to me, "Sometimes I have no idea how to reply to him."

I giggled, "Although the idea of climbing tress is exceptionally enticing, how about we go for a picnic by the lake? Of course, not a real picnic, but I've been wanting to paint a picture of it, and I can't imagine the exact colours. Perhaps we could take some photographs down there? I'm sure there are a lot of different things to practise on."

"That," Carlisle grinned, "Is a very good idea."

"We could go swimming again," Edward grinned, "Now that we all have costumes."

I nodded, "That sounds nice."

We all quickly dashed up to our respective rooms to change, and then gathered downstairs, with the camera and my paint supplies, ready to go.

We ran through the forest, all the way out to the Porcupine Lake Wilderness, me holding my breath the whole time, in case of humans. Edward and I had found a little lake that held no human scent, on a hunting trip a while back, and Edward had always promised me he'd bring me back. He ran the perimeter first, when we arrived, just to make sure that no human had been by.

His search came up clean.

Carlisle lay a rug on the stones of the bank, and we all managed to squash onto it. Carlisle collapsed backwards onto his back in his usual fashion, and Edward began skipping rocks without getting up.

"What are you going to paint, exactly?" Carlisle wondered.

"The three of us," I smiled.

"Dangling in trees from a single finger?" Edward's voice was playfully hopeful.

"Oh, yes. Of course," I replied sarcastically.

Edward chuckled, "Sarcasm really doesn't suit you, but you do it so well."

I raised an eyebrow in question.

"Well," he reasoned, "I always thought of sarcasm as more of a ma… a … a ma…"

"A manly thing?"

He tried to hide his smile, and nodded cheekily.

I shrugged, "You are so naive as to what women are really like."

Carlisle chuckled from behind us.

Edward scoffed, "Well I know that women are more sensitive than men."

I raised my eyebrows, "You think I'm being sensitive?"

He couldn't mistake the calmness in my voice for anything else, surely, "No," he shook his head, "Sometimes you do surprise me."

I gave him a satisfied grin, "Let's just say I can give it like a woman and take it like a man."

Edward chuckled and Carlisle roared with laughter. I turned around and fixed a disapproving look upon my face, "Are you making fun of me?"

He pursed his lips and shook his head, his eyes still betraying his amusement, "No. Not at all. I'm all for feminism."

I tried very hard to keep the smile from ruining my pretend displeasure, "Well I'm taking that quite sensitively."

He couldn't hide his grin then. I narrowed my eyes as my own smile won the battle and spread across my face. Then I did something quite positively unladylike. I put my sketchbook to one side, and then danced wiggling fingers across his stomach with gentle force. His laughter erupted in a sound so loud, I couldn't help but join in. Out the corner of my eye, I watched Edward shake his head, but a small smile played upon his lips.

Carlisle writhed under my fingers like a fish out of water, "No!" he exclaimed through his laughter, as his legs reflectively lifted of the ground, bent at the knees, and he began to turn onto his side. My laughter became too much for me to continue.

I let my head fall into my lap, as I wondered what was coming next.

When his laughter had subsided, but giggles still escaped my lips, I felt his arms weave around my waist, and his lips brush against my ear, "You," he whispered, "Are a little mischief maker."

I giggled more.

"What on Earth are we going to do with you?"

Edward cleared his throat to remind us of his presence. I felt Carlisle shake his head, but he released my waist and shuffled back to his seat. Relaxing back, but not lying down.

"Shall we go for a swim?" He wondered.

"I'll throw stones, you dodge," Edward suggested humourlessly, but laughed when Carlisle shoved his shoulder.

"Esme?" Carlisle's eyes still sparkled with mischief.

I shook my head, "I'm not getting wet."

"But you wore your swimming suit, you must have expected to get wet?"

"I did, but not by my own doing." There was silence for a moment before I caught a glimpse of the mischievous smile spreading across his face and heard Edward's quiet chuckles, and I realised the double meaning of my words, "Oh no, that did not come out how I intended it to."

"It really didn't, did it?" His eyes twinkled, "Because now I'm morally obliged to get you in this lake."

"You wouldn't," I whispered.

He shrugged, "Wouldn't, shouldn't… Still going to."

Then all of a sudden, he was lunging at me, and I was screaming and laughing as he wrapped his arms around my waist from the back, and lifted my feet off of the ground, spinning towards the lake. His arms were so thick, and strong, but gentle and soft. I was sure that should he ever hold me tighter, he could actually fit me entirely in his embrace and still manage for his hands to meet the opposite side of his body, that's how much bigger he was compared to little old me.

My screams were of glee and delight, as he ran into the water with me safely tucked into his arms. He kept walking backwards, laughing with Edward who aimed stones at his head then began to take photographs, until the water got deep enough to submerge us.

"Going under, little apple," he whispered in my ear.

I squealed again with delight and glee, his accompanying laughter was the perfect contrast, low and loving.

Edward joined Carlisle in the water when Carlisle would let me go, which took a lot of coaxing, and he acting disappointed as I skipped back to the rug on the shore. Edward showed me how to use the camera, and once I'd gotten the hang of it, I managed to get some rather amusing shots of the two boys having fun in the lake.

I got a few rough sketches as well, but that was effectively ended when Carlisle and Edward decided to splash me, and lure me into the water once again.

It was nine o'clock and dark by the time we decided to leave, Carlisle's shift began at ten. He'd run off to check the surrounding forest for traces of humans before I could leave. I was greatly looking forward to not being a newborn.

Edward and I were sitting side-by-side, shoulders touching on the pebble banks, he looking out at the lake, and I looking into the trees, waiting for Carlisle to return. I was marvelling at how I didn't think it possible, but somehow I loved him even more after today, when Edward turned and looked at me in earnest, "Esme, you don't realize how young you make him. How happy."

I looked up to Edward, his words sending my mind reeling. _How happy._ My stomach fluttered, I wanted that to mean so much more than I was sure it did. I went over the past month in my head, all the times he held my hand, the night in the forest, how we danced with our faces so close I almost kissed him, my birthday, lying on the lawn our noses almost touching, that night swimming, his tickling my feet, and today, his arms around my waist, his face in my hair, him pulling me into the water.

All the signs seemed to say that he was in love with me. But that couldn't be? Carlisle Cullen couldn't be in love with _me,_ could he?

I looked to Edward, whose eyes were now fixed on the lake. I had so much respect and love for the boy; he couldn't block everyone else's thoughts out, so surely that meant he knew the answer. He'd vowed to keep the secrets that he knew, and that made me love him so much more, but I needed him to help me in that moment.

_Edward, please… Am I reading the signs wrong?_

His golden eyes were filled with conflicting emotions; there was annoyance, impatience, wariness, and happiness? I sighed, and watched the moonlight dance in his eyes, replaying the moments I cherished so much over and over in my head, wondering how Carlisle could ever love me, because nothing about made sense. So I concluded that there was only one answer. Yes, I was reading the signs wrong.

.

.

.

But two seconds later, Edward made everything make sense, with just a slight shake of his head.

* * *

_A.N. Surprise! Another chapter! (I should have been studying for my med school exams... shhh)  
_

_SHE KNOWS!  
YAY.  
This was heaps of fun to write! So I hope you all enjoy!_

_Thank you so much again to everyone! Much love x_


	22. Look How Time Passes

_Chapter Twenty-Two: Look How Time Passes _

_Ashland, Wisconsin, July 1921_

_Edward_

We had decided to have a race on our way back to the house that night, I was eager to see if Esme's newborn speed could still match mine. In all fairness, she had probably always been about two-millionths of a millisecond faster than me, but for different reasons, we were both hoping that her newborn strength was beginning to wane. That hope was in vain; after all she was still only four months old.

We made it to the finishing mark, a particularly tall pine tree, neck and neck, with Carlisle on our toes.

"I think you're wrong about the whole speed thing, with me, Edward." Esme murmured, as I leaned up against the tree,

"How so?"

"I think you're both faster than me. I'll be the slowest."

Carlisle and I shared a chuckle at her disappointment, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, "Perhaps, we'll be the fastest vampire family in the country."

She grinned up at him, her mind still marvelling at the newfound truth about Carlisle's feelings. She had spent most of the run back wondering how to tell him that she loved him too, but she wasn't sure if he already knew.

He didn't. He hoped, but he didn't _know._ Even if he did, I was not sure he'd be bold enough to tell her, in fact, I was almost certain that if anyone was going to put an end to their angsty little 'He/she loves me, he/she loves me not' charade, it had to be her. The only reason that Carlisle touched her the way he did, with all the handholding and hugs, was because he simply couldn't stop himself. It was completely impossible.

Wondering how long it would be until they were too in love with one another to remember me, I decided to address something that had been on my mind lately, "I've been thinking of some tests for me to control my gift. I was wondering if, perhaps, we could try one... if we have time?"

Carlisle removed his arm from Esme's shoulders – their thoughts both erupted in protest – and checked his watch, "That sounds like a good idea, Edward. We've got half an hour until I should leave. What did you have in mind?"

"I've found that the voices I'm more accustomed to are louder, and harder to ignore, so naturally you both have very loud internal monologues," I received two simultaneous apologies, "Which you are not to blame for. However, Carlisle, yours is louder because I've been with you longer. I was considering perhaps if you thought loudly and Esme if you thought quietly, I might be able to tune Esme out."

She pretended to be offended, but she could never hide her laughter for very long.

They both agreed, so as we walked through the forest at a speed comparable to a human sprint, Carlisle yelled at me in his thoughts as Esme whispered.

It almost worked.

"Perhaps if I go further away from Esme," I murmured.

She nodded, so I scaled the nearest tree trunk and Carlisle followed. We perched on a low branch and Carlisle watched Esme down below. I focussed on his description of her small rounded features, her eyes, her hair, her lips, her nose; all the things I had heard many times over. I focussed so hard on his thoughts that hers were just a humdrum of nothingness in the background.

And I know that I will regret that moment for the rest of eternity.

But from that moment on, her name would truly always be synonymous with the word mother. Because she did something then that only a real mother would do. She put all of my needs above that of her own, and she sacrificed her happiness for mine.

_EDWARD. HOLD YOUR BREATH AND RUN. _She screamed in her head during her last moments of sanity, as the haze of bloodlust engulfed her senses and clouded her mind.

I stopped breathing immediately, and she bolted.

"Humans," I hissed to Carlisle, who instantly jumped from the tree and sprinted after her. He was fast, but he wouldn't be fast enough, we knew.

I jumped down too, and ran the other way. The last thing I heard was Carlisle's internal monologue telling me to run away as fast as I could because _It's bad, Edward. It's very bad._

I had slipped a few times as a newborn, and although Carlisle had tried to expose me to the smell of human blood, I was still unsure whether or not I would be able to resist the blood if it was strong. Esme knew that, in fact, more than that, she knew my fears on the subject. I had confessed to her, in one of our many nights together, that I didn't know if I could face Carlisle should I slip again. She assured me that he would always love me, no matter what, but she understood my fears completely. She shared them to an extent. She knew she could never be away from Carlisle, it just wasn't possible for her, but she wasn't sure how she'd be able to cope with it all. I reminded her that she was still a newborn, a newborn with exceptional senses, but Esme was too moral to accept that as an excuse.

I ran straight back to the house, and I waited on the porch with my head in my hands, feeling my heart slowly breaking. I looked at my watch; the time read half passed eight. I ran inside the house and called the hospital on the telephone. They weren't happy with the lack of notice, but they were very understanding of Carlisle's predicament with his sickly niece, they wished me well before I hung up. I dashed back to the porch, and waited.

Carlisle appeared not long after, carrying Esme in his arms.

_Hold your breath, Edward._

I nodded, and stood up in alarm, Esme's mind was completely blank. She wasn't harmed, was she?

"I'm fine," she whispered to Carlisle, "I'll have a bath." Her voice was low and lifeless, a stark contrast to the young woman in love that she had been this afternoon.

Carlisle nodded and set her down, I moved forward to hug her and thank her once she was facing me but she shook her head.

"Don't hug me, Edward." She spoke in the same lifeless monotone; "You'll get blood on your clothes. Let me have a bath, we can talk after."

Something told me we weren't going to talk after. Carlisle was worrying about the very same thing. Slowly, ever so slowly, he was dying inside.

She walked passed me lifelessly and into the house, leaving Carlisle and I staring at each other on the lawn. We waited until she was in the bathroom before we headed inside.

_Let me get changed, and then I'll tell you what happened._

I nodded and moved to the study, still not breathing for he was covered in blood. He met me seconds later, and so I grabbed a piece of paper from atop his desk and wrote, _How many?_

_Six. _His face was miserable.

_She's not going to handle this well._

He shook his head.

_Show me._

He nodded.

* * *

_The rich green forest flew by in a blur, Carlisle tried to run faster, but he was no match for Esme with all of her newborn strength. He couldn't hear her, or see her; he could only smell the trail she left. He couldn't even smell the human blood yet. His heart was dropping with every second that passed. She would be hurting after this. Nausea caused his stomach to plummet when he realized that she would either become dependant on him in the following weeks, or she would push him away, and he was convinced she'd do the latter._

_He was wrong to consider that he could act on his feelings, she was still a newborn, she made it look so easy, but Carlisle remembered just how hard it was, he couldn't imagine how much more difficult her heightened sense of smell made it for her._

_He smelt the blood then, and he tried not to think about it too much, for Edward's sake._

_It was bad. Very bad._

_He sent a mental message to the boy, warning him of the smells potency, then tried even harder to run even faster. _

_She had made quick work of it, killing all of the men in the small clearing before he arrived, and she stood there lifeless, her hands dangling at her sides, staring at the scene. From what Carlisle could gather, the love of his never ending life had just interrupted a group of six murderers trying to dispose of their three poor victims. She turned his way when she heard him approach, her eyes were downcast and her red lips were slightly ajar in that lovely little pout he so dearly adored. She turned back around to gaze at the lifeless bodies now scattered all over the floor, one still clutching an axe in his swollen hands, another holding a stray, unattached foot. _

_He couldn't find it in his heart to be upset with her, nor disappointed, she was a newborn, only four and a half months old, so this was to be expected. But he could tell, it was true, she was disappointed in herself. _

"_Esme?" He murmured._

_At the sound of his voice, her face crumpled up and a heavy sob wracked her body, she hung her head, her hand clutching her heart. He moved forward to comfort her, but she put a cautioning hand up, and moved away._

_His heart broke some more. She wouldn't let him touch her._

"_We should head home," he murmured._

"_But… what about…?" She looked at the bodies scattered on the floor._

_He nodded, "You wait by that tree over there, I'll clean this up."_

_She never once raised her eyes to meet his as she silently moved away. That hurt him even more. To see the one you love in pain is worse than enduring the pain yourself. Once he was done, he found her sitting lifelessly by the tree. He didn't think twice before scooping her up into his arms and carrying her home. Thankfully, she didn't protest either._

* * *

"It's not so bad," I murmured.

_They were murderers, yes. But she won't see it that way._

I shrugged, _Perhaps she might,_ I wrote.

_You know she won't._

_She did it for me, you know. _He was replying in his mind before I had even finished the sentence.

_How so?_

_She smelt them before she ran, and in her very last moments, when she could have focussed everything on running away, she focussed on telling me to run away, she knew the blood would hit soon, and I'd never be able to resist._

_She loves you._

I almost wrote, 'And you,' but it wouldn't have helped in the slightest.

_The question is, how do we help her deal with this? _He wondered.

We heard her moving then, a wet body rising from the bath, and stood silently, wondering what she would do. She dressed quietly and quickly, then left the large bathroom, and moved instantly into her room. She closed the door, and in a subtle way of telling us that our company was not needed nor desired, she locked the door.

Carlisle's expression was stricken. His thoughts echoed the same heartbreak.

"I rang the hospital," I murmured.

"Thank you," he sighed, and moved to sit in the desk behind his chair, before letting his face fall into his hands. There was a slight shudder in his shoulders, so I took that as my moment to leave, gently shutting the study door behind me. I had never seen a sobbing Carlisle before, and quite frankly; I hadn't the slightest idea what to do. Leaving him alone was probably not the best idea, but it was the only idea I had.

I moved to my piano, wondering if I should play something that didn't reflect the mood in the house, but decided against it, for it would be far too out of place. I placed my hands on the keys and began to compose a melancholy melody as Carlisle sobbed in the next room, and Esme sat numbly in the corner, on the wooden floorboards of her bedchamber. I thought she'd come down when the sun began to rise. But she didn't.

She didn't come down at all that day.

Or the next.

Or the one after that.

And soon the days turned into weeks.

But she didn't come downstairs.

Not once.

And that's how time passes.

* * *

_Two and a half weeks later_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, August 1921_

"Esme," Carlisle worked hard not to whimper, "You need to come out. You need to hunt."

His mind was mad with missing her. I had not ever known him to be the man he had been for the passed week. The first week was okay. He could deal with the longing, but the second week had begun to take a toll, he couldn't deal with the pain. And come the third week, this week, he was consumed with the agony. In fact, it was all he could think about, and therefore all I could think about. Because the alternative option was worse.

Esme drowned.

She drowned in pain, loneliness, longing, guilt, shame, and most potently, and emotion I could not name. An emotion that was exactly how Carlisle felt. She needed him like an addict needed a drug, an alcoholic needed nectar, like a human needed air, and like a vampire needed their mate.

She needed him the way that he needed her, and I was beginning to lose my mind too.

He stood upstairs, with his forehead pressed against the wood of her door. She sat inside, so consumed in her drowning; she could barely even hear her favourite sound in the world.

"Please," he whispered, but it wasn't going to work.

She wouldn't let herself hear him; all she could hear was the sound of her internal monologue, trying to decide why she felt guilty. Was it because she killed people? They were murderers after all. Was it because she slipped when she thought her control was coming along to well? Was it because she ruined the happiness they had? Or was it because she could never be worthy of him anymore?

She cared so very much about what he thought of her, but she didn't stop to remember that he _loved_ her. She _knew_ he loved her. I practically told her… No, I _did_ tell her. So how could she not realize that the love he felt was unconditional?

The answer was plainly and heartbreakingly obvious.

Because she didn't understand how anyone could love her that way… because no one ever had before… because it was only Carlisle who ever had.

Carlisle and I.

She was forgetting that last one.

I sighed; it was time for some tough love.

I marched up the stairs and came to stop beside Carlisle, whose eyes were tortured with pain.

_Edward. Help. _His mind whimpered in the way his voice would have had he not wanted her to know of his pain.

I nodded.

"Esme." My voice was cool, she heard me. "You need to come out now. You starving yourself is only putting more people in danger. If a human came to the house now, and you smelt them, I daresay you wouldn't be able to resist. You need to hunt and we can't hunt for you."

Like clockwork, her mind absorbed my words and processed them, each truth falling into place with a click.

Then, for the first time since the accident, she formed a coherent thought; _I'd forgotten I was thirsty._

I breathed a sigh of relief, and nodded to Carlisle, whose eyes relinquished some of their grief. Slowly, Esme walked to the door where we stood and waited. She opened it slowly, her face still filled with shame, her eyes still straying everywhere but ours, her hands wrung together. It was an upsetting sight for the both of us, but it was better than no sight at all.

"Let's go," I murmured.

She nodded, and followed me as I walked down the hallway and the stairs, then exited out the front door. Carlisle's thoughts, which had improved drastically, were still exceptionally unhappy, because now he could see her pain, hear it in her voice, even feel it, in the strange connection they had. Somehow he knew that it pained her to look at him, and that made it all the worse.

We only found deer in the forest. Esme hunted begrudgingly. All the fun we used to have together was long gone and mourned by all. But she was in no mood to laugh. She was in far too much pain for any of that. When we arrived home she went straight back upstairs to her room, but this time she did not lock the door.

Carlisle, who had not been to work in the entire time that she was grieving, turned to me, _You have another exam today?_

I nodded.

_What is it on?_

"Medieval Literature."

"Do you feel confident?"

I nodded.

He looked to his watch, it was half passed nine.

"I should go," I murmured.

He nodded, "I wish you the best of luck," _and Edward?_

I raised an eyebrow.

_I'm sorry that I've been distant, and … torturous, I suppose, in the passed few weeks. I love you, son. Always know that, because I always will love you. No matter what._

I nodded and cleared my throat awkwardly, "I feel the same."

He gave me a small smile as we parted, and as I drove to class that Monday, I wondered if it would be another two weeks until I saw my mother again. Until I could tell her how much I loved her, and how thankful for her I was. Would I have to wait that long for our house to feel like a home once more? For our coven to feel like a family?

No.

No, I would not.

Because much to my surprise, that afternoon when I arrived home, she greeted me at the door with a hug, and on her face was the very, very smallest smile I had ever seen… But it was still there, and so was she.

* * *

_A.N. To all of you who were hoping for a big confession in this chapter... You have my most sincere apologies! But I promise you (before I get slugged with disappointed reviews (I know you wouldn't do that you lovely people)...) IT IS COMING SOMETIME SOON.  
Let me know what you think! (I will be hiding under pillows every time I get an email saying I have a review, nervous as to what you all will say!)_

_But once again, thank you so much to all of you who review! You are my shining stars! I adore you all! And to my new followers and favouriters HI! WELCOME! And a big thanks to all my quiet, loyal readers! _

_Much love x_


	23. There's Always An After

_Chapter Twenty-Three: There's Always an After _

_Ashland, Wisconsin, August 1921_

_Carlisle_

I listened to the tyres on the gravel driveway, waiting for the moment that they hit the road, and once they did, I headed upstairs. Esme was going to come out of her room, and I was going to ensure that. After seeing her today, I knew that there was no way I could endure another three weeks without seeing her face.  
I took the stairs, one by one, slowly. Letting her know I was coming. I rounded the corner and walked down the small hallway, before pausing at her door again. Mentally reminding myself to speak with a steady voice, I took a deep breath.  
I wanted to put my forehead back up against the wood, so I could smell her better, and so I could have some more support, but she couldn't know I was feeling weak. For her, I had to be strong. I would always have to be strong for her.

"Esme," I murmured, I heard her weight shift on the bed, "I know you are upset at the moment, and I wish I knew how to help you through that, but I don't. So there was something I wanted to say… I met a young girl at the hospital many years ago, and she said to me, 'You see, we can't control what we are, but we can decide who we want to be and we can dedicate our entire lives to becoming that person. Our decisions define us more than the circumstances that we are given.' I've always remembered that, I've always carried that with me.  
"If I were four months old, and standing in the forest when I caught the scent of that much blood, I have no doubt that I would have done the exact same thing that you did, because as much as we want to, in those moments we can't escape what we are. So what that little girl told me doesn't strictly apply. Instead, what defines us as a person is how we react afterward… Whether we are proud or regretful.  
"I know that you won't want to hear this, but I need to thank you. You told Edward to run away, and I'm not just thanking you for sparing him the pain, but if you hadn't told him, he would have raced you for the blood, and I can't be certain whether or not he would have hurt you for it. If he did… That would have destroyed him… Killed me too. You saved us all Esme, and you didn't even know. _That _defines you as a person. But it's time to forgive yourself for this, and from now on we'll be more careful, but I can't promise that it won't happen again, but next time, please, please lets us help you like you have so greatly helped us."

It was quiet for a moment, as I listened to her soft breathing from the large four-poster bed that occupied her room. After four eternal seconds passed by, I heard her rise from her spot on the duvet, and slowly make her way over to the door. She lifted her sad spessartite garnet eyes up to mine, and I smiled down at her. She was just over five months old, had she not slipped her eyes would have been gold, but the orange hue that they were, was beautiful.

"You haven't been to the hospital this whole time?" She murmured, her soft voice like angels singing to my ears.

I shook my head, "Family is more important."

She lowered her eyes in guilt, "I'm sorry for making you do that."

"You didn't make me do anything," I murmured, as I reached for her cheek to lift her eyes back up to mine. She flinched at the contact, so I quickly pulled away. An awkward silence engulfed us for a moment, as my mind raced through millions of possible things to say.

I settled on what was, perhaps, the worst, "Would you like to play chess?"

Her eyes slowly found their way back to mind, and although they were saturated with sadness, I noticed a faint light of amusement, somewhere deep down inside, "You coaxed me out of hiding just to ask if I wanted to play chess," she said wryly.

I gave her a lopsided grin, and then nodded.

She sighed, "Alright. Chess it is."

She followed me slowly down the stairs, and into the dining room. It was her favourite room of the house, so I thought she would appreciate it most. A smile did not light her face like I hoped it would have, but I knew all along that my hope was in vain. What I would have given just to possess Edward's gift in that moment, and only for her mind. I knew it was wrong, having witnessed his struggles, but I envied him the gift when it came to Esme. He got to read her like an open book, _he _got to know her mind, and all the while _I _was the one who wanted to. I repressed a sigh as I left her in the dining room to retrieve the chess set, it seemed I would have to go about it the hard, old fashioned, human way.

She was still sitting in the chair that I had helped her into, when I returned with the game, and she did not look up when I entered. Her small hands rested atop the table, intertwined with each other, how I wished they would be with mine. I took a deep breath and tried to shake away the thoughts of that. They weren't helping.

Reciting a mantra in my head, that was designed to distract me from my constant thoughts of her, I began to set up the chessboard. She grabbed the black pieces before I could start, and – thank the sweet and merciful Lord – flicked me a small demure smile in reply to my questioning expression.

I set up the white pieces, and looked expectantly to her. She looked expectantly back at me. Then the amusement began to grow in her orange eyes, which were slowly beginning to come back to life.

"You're white, you move first," she murmured.

I looked at her quizzically before nodding and moving a pawn.

"Just because you're a gentleman, doesn't mean the rules of chess get thrown out the window. White will always go first, whether your opponent is a female or not, Doctor Cullen," her voice was almost teasing, "And you had better not just let me win."

I grinned, "I wouldn't dream of it."

"No," she muttered, as she too moved a pawn, "You're a vampire. You don't sleep."

I let out a low chuckle at her retort, hoping that her teasing words would soon bring her completely back to life.

I moved another pawn, and she did too, then we really settled in to our little dance. She was good for a beginner, in fact, had she been playing an ordinary human being, she would be considered very good, but I was nearly three centuries old, I knew how to play chess exceptionally well.

Esme gazed across at me thoughtfully at one point, as she took my knight with her bishop, "Where exactly did you learn to play chess, Carlisle?"

"In Volterra," I murmured, taking another pawn of hers with one of mine, "Aro was never happy having to hand over to Caius in a battle, so he was always willing to test out his strategy. He had tried to convince me to aid him in many ways, all of them more gruesome than the next, but he soon began to understand that I much preferred peaceful things. So one day when he didn't have much to do he brought out an old chessboard, and taught me how to play. We played most days from then on, soon I began to win, and that's when Caius decided to play. He destroyed a lot of the pieces because the game wasn't realistic enough for him, but that's just Caius, I suppose. He likes being a vampire."

Esme moved her rook backwards, out of my queen's line of fire.

"You never played as a human?" I wondered.

She shook her head.

"What games _did_ you play?"

I moved a pawn forward, in place to take her queen.

"Hopscotch." She murmured with a half-smile.

"Hopscotch?" I chuckled.

She nodded, "I wasn't very far along when I started teaching at the school, so I could do a little bit of physical activity. The children preferred young teachers, and I was the youngest, so they'd always ask me to play. I tried to be terrible, but sometimes it was either be good at it, or fall over, and I didn't much like the latter option."

She moved her queen backward, away from my pawn. My time as Aro's chess partner had taught me one thing, never let your opponent be on the offense, always keep them playing defence. Always have the upper hand.

"So you won most of the time?"

I moved another pawn forward, lining up a move.

She gave me a grin that was bigger this time, and shook her head, "Only once, it's a little like my chess winning history, I won only by accident."

I laughed and then we exchanged moving of our little foot soldiers for a short time until I tricked her into losing her queen. She sighed.

"Were your matches with Aro longer than this?"

I nodded, "Frustratingly so, but this is not over yet."

Protecting her king, she took the pawn, but that left my queen open to take her knight, bishop, and rook, all while she moved her king from one defensive spot to another.

"Some matches between Aro and I would last for hours, days even, we'd pause them sometimes when he … had other things to do, and I'd go off to the libraries and study. They had so many books. Then once he was ready to continue on, we'd reconvene until it was done… or his… duties required him elsewhere."

Her brow furrowed, "Duties? Do the Volturi act as keepers of the law _that_ much?"

I cleared my throat awkwardly as I cornered her king again, "No, that's not quite what I meant." I really didn't want to have this conversation with her.

She looked at me curiously for a moment, as she moved her king another time, "I'm sorry, I don't understand."

"He has a mate," I spoke quickly, as I moved my queen once more, but then she got my queen with her other rook.

She blinked once, "Is that similar to a wife?"

I nodded. I'd yet to explain vampire mates to her, but I knew I'd have to some time.

"It is, although not many mated couples actually marry. Those who prey upon humans are more animalistic than us, generally."

She nodded thoughtfully, "Is it common to come across mated vampires?"

I gave an offhanded shrug, "Not common, but not overly uncommon. Because we stay frozen in the very form we were changed in, it's not easy for a vampire to find a true mate. Take Aro for example, his mate Sulpicia and Caius' mate Athenodora would perhaps prefer to be running the Volturi rather than be married to those who run it. They'd probably try and overthrow Aro and Caius, but they're locked up in the tower most of the time, they love it there, but only because of Corin's gift. However, if you look at Marcus and Dydime, the latter whom I never met, then you have a relationship based on love, which is an exceptionally rare thing in the vampire world. Marcus and Dydime – who was Aro's biological sister – planned to run away together, but Aro found out and wanted to keep Marcus, so he killed his sister and had Chelsea use her gift on Marcus."

"He couldn't just have Chelsea break the bindings between Marcus and Dydime?"

I shook my head, "The bond between mates is strong, when vampire's find a mate, they mate for the rest of eternity. Aro wouldn't speak much about it, but Marcus understood it much better, he can feel the bindings between people. He would say that there are two types of mates; there are 'soul mates' for lack of a better term, and just plain mates. 'Soul mates,' as he classified himself and Dydime, have a stronger bond that goes deeper than…" I trailed off out of awkwardness.

"Deeper than…?" She prompted.

I cleared my throat, it was unnecessary but conveyed my discomfort, "Physical attraction."

She nodded in realisation.

"As I said, most vampires are more animalistic, so the term 'mate' applies in a very animal sense of the word. Therefore, Marcus theorised that those who had a generic mate bond, would undergo a personality change, for lack of a better term, _when_ they… became mates, but those who he termed 'soul-mates' who share a more special bond, undergo the … let's call it a change in temperament, _before_ they become 'mates.' If that makes sense?"

She grinned, perhaps at my awkwardness, "It does. Thank you," she stifled a little giggle.

I grinned at her improved mood, "What's so funny?"

She looked away in embarrassment.

"You can't evade my question when I answered all of yours! Much to my chagrin."

She nodded, "That's the point, for a doctor you're awfully uncomfortable discussing such matters."

"With a lady," I gestured to her, "Yes, I am."

Her giggles erupted into laughter, "You're such a gentleman."

"That's not a bad thing," I murmured.

Her laughter subsided and she smiled lovingly toward me, "It is the least bad thing that I can think of."

She looked back down to the chess board, and made her move, she had me on the defence for a while, cornering me with her remaining bishop and rook

"What is Corin's gift?" She queried thoughtfully.

"Addictive contentment."

"And he chooses to stay with the Volturi?"

I laughed, "He's bound by Chelsea who is addicted to the contentment she feels at Aro's side."

"Do they know?"

"Know what?"

"That they're using their gifts on people who are using their gifts on them?"

I shrugged, "Either they do and can't mind, or they don't."

She almost had me when she took my rook, and cornered me in with her knight and her own rook. I was left with only a king and pawns, but as she tried to devise a strategy to corner my king into checkmate, I snuck a pawn to her end of the board and managed to reclaim my queen.

She sighed, "You're even better than Edward."

I grinned, "Thank you, perhaps you could mention that when he's around?" I playfully suggested.

She raised her eyebrows in surprise, and then smirked, "Are you saying that you – Doctor Carlisle Cullen, Mr. Stregoni benefici, the good vampire in the crowd of bad ones – has an ego?"

I gave her a wide grin, "And if I do?"

She laughed, "It is a grain of sand sitting beside Mount Everest."

My brow furrowed playfully, "What are you trying to say?"

"That you are a beautifully modest person."

She got my queen with her king, a move I set up just to see how it would all end.

"Why, thank you," I grinned.

Soon we were reduced to only a king and a pawn each. It was a race to see who could get their queen back first. She won, with an adorable little grin.

I was swapping my pawn for my queen when she looked over at me thoughtfully again, "What was your favourite thing about Edward, or having him around, after you changed him?"

I pursed my lips in thought as I pondered her question, I loved the way she asked me such things that seemed to infer she envied Edward's gift when it came to me, just as I did when it came to her. "Of course, I was thankful that he didn't want to leave, I don't think I could have chosen anyone better than Edward for a companion. He and I have very similar personalities, of course he's younger so he doesn't have quite the same restraint over his actions as I do, I suppose – "

"You're Mr. Calm-All-The-Time," she interjected.

I chuckled, "Perhaps, it infuriates Edward, he's doesn't quite understand why I believe anger solves nothing. He was angry in the beginning, which could be frustrating at times, but I understood. I think that made him even angrier.

"He loved learning, I couldn't have been more lucky in that respect, and he has a good heart. I think I would have been happy with any company really, but to have his, and now yours, makes me a very lucky man."

She gave an offhanded shrug, "We're lucky to have you."

Her voice was sincere, but her eyes held some of the deep sadness I had seen earlier that morning, as she thought things I craved to know. Instead of asking I sneakily took her queen with mine.

She sighed again, and shook her head, a small smile playing upon her lips. She moved her king around the board hopelessly until she found a corner for me to check mate, then she gave me an impish grin, "Chess is not my forte."

I grinned back, "I've had a lot of practise. Would you like to go again?"

She nodded, "If you would."

"I would," I began to pick up her pieces I had taken, and she did the same with mine.

"Thank you for going easy on me," she murmured as she handed me the white objects.

I raised an eyebrow in fake innocence, "Going easy on you?"

"Yes, should you have actually tried to win, the game would have been over much quickly."

I chuckled, "That would not have been much fun."

"Isn't winning fun?" She queried.

I shrugged, "There are many more things that I can think of, which are more enjoyable than winning."

"Another way you differ from Aro and Caius."

"True," I mused.

"I agree, sometimes losing is fun too."

I cocked an eyebrow, "How so?"

"Because you get to watch someone else win." She stated simply as though it was as obvious as the colour of my hair. Such a sweet heart she possessed.

Our second game was longer than our first, but she wouldn't let me lose, no matter how hard I tried. She seemed to have forgotten the cause of her sadness as she teased me and we laughed. It was almost as though nothing had happened.

Almost.

Sometimes I caught her with a faraway look in her eyes, which was so deeply pained, my dead heart panged with sadness. How I wanted to make her realize everything was all right.  
She voiced some of her pain not long before Edward arrived home, "Carlisle," she murmured shyly, as she slowly shifted a pawn.

"Yes?" I took a rook with a knight.

"Edward told me that you … helped the families of … those campers in the woods at the end of my first month, and I was just wondering if you helped the families of … these men?" She kept her sad eyes trained on the table below.

I sighed, "We looked into it, but none of them had any families that would be badly impacted by their loss… So no."

She nodded slowly, toying with another piece, "But they still had families," she whispered.

I placed my hand atop hers, she lifted her head gingerly, "Esme. Those men were bad men. The families that they had, they destroyed. Those who were left behind benefited from their deaths. I'm not saying that we should go gallivanting around pretending that we are vigilantes, but as Edward would put it, perhaps you saved more lives than you took."

Her eyes looked away from mine, out the window, filled with heartbreaking pain, "I still wish it had never happened," she choked.

I closed my eyes my heart drowning in pain, "I do too, but there's nothing we can do about it."

She took a deep breath, and when I opened my eyes she was nodding, "You're right. There's nothing we can do about it now, except to learn from it, and try to prevent it happening again."

I gazed at her with awe, "You are so very brave, Esme."

She let out a humourless laugh, and shook her head, "I am not a brave person, Carlisle."

I heard tyres turning on to our gravel drive, "Then you do not see yourself clearly enough."

She gave me a small smile, "Thank you. I should probably greet Edward at the door, he is rather worried, isn't he?"

I nodded, "I think that's a good idea."

She moved to rise, but some stray thought stopped her, "Will you be returning to the hospital tonight?" Her voice almost had an edge of worry to it.

I shook my head, "No."

She looked relieved, then earnest, "Thank you," she whispered, "For everything."

I nodded, "Anytime you need anything, I'm right here."

She sighed, "You're too good of a person."

"You're being far too kind."

"Au contraire, I think we must suffer from the same condition, we look too closely is dirty mirrors."

She stood up then, with a tiny smile upon her face, as I grinned back at her like an wonderstruck man seeing the sun for the very first time.

I listened to Edward park the car, and sprint over to the front door, which Esme opened before he could. I imagined his face as he saw her there while I returned the chess pieces to their positions.

She pulled him into one of the soft hugs that he so dearly loved, and his relief was almost palpable, "I love you so much, mom," he whispered, "I love you so much."

* * *

_A.N. Oh my word, your reviews were all so lovely! I knew I would (unfortunately) disappoint some of you with the turn of events in the previous chapter, but I'm glad to see you all forgave me! My very worst fear for this story is that I fling Carlisle and Esme into a relationship too quickly, there are a great deal many things for the both of them to come to terms with before they feel they're in a place where they can open themselves up to one another, in saying that I can confidently make you a promise… You will have a confession… __**before**__ chapter _thirty _(30). _

_I know, I know, that seems a long way off, and I promise I won't overly drag it out, but I have it all planned out! I promise._

_Thank you all once again for your reviews, follows, favourites and for just being amazing, and faithful readers._

_Much love x_


	24. By You Being Here (The Secret Attic)

_Chapter Twenty-Four: By You Being Here (The Secret Attic)_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, August 1921_

_Esme_

Everything was okay when Carlisle was there, but when Carlisle was gone, he took okay away with him. So I was left with the pain, the all consuming, drowning, and suffocating pain…Well, I was left with Edward too. Poor, sweet Edward.

I was so thankful for him, and I loved the boy dearly… But he just wasn't Carlisle. The worst thing about that, was that I knew he knew that's how I thought. So then came another wave of the all-consuming pain. It did not end until the morning came, and with it brought my Doctor. He healed the wounds inside my heart, stitched them up in beautiful sutures and made me forget why I was pained at all, but he never cut the string he sewed me up with, so when he left it went too, and I came undone again. It felt as though it would never end.

Edward tried his best, he showered me with his attention, dreaming up activity after activity to keep my mind off all of it, but some days, like this one, I just wanted to wallow in it. Edward sat at his piano, playing a song that sounded somewhat familiar, but I could not recall ever hearing it before. I lay on my bed, half consumed by thoughts of distaste at the décor, and the other half reliving the days since Carlisle ended my hiding. In particular, _that _day.

Questioning Carlisle in the manner I did about such an inappropriate topic was a ghastly and horribly unladylike action, my mother would have surely disowned me for, but I just _had _to know. It was such a strange sensation, to need something so much, that in those moments every single possible emotion was overtaken by that craving, that coveting, that internal flame of desire, which could only ever be extinguished by the one thing I wanted… to know. And he delivered beyond my wildest dreams… And as a human, my dreams had been pretty wild.

Edward believed that Carlisle was in love with me, and should that be true, I had come to believe that Carlisle had never felt that way about anyone before. From what he told me, he would never feel that way about anyone else ever again, because we don't _change_. This was heaven to my mind, music to my ears, but that didn't mean that I was going to run down the stairs when he arrived home and fling myself into his arms professing in poetic prose that I would love him for the rest of eternity because it was as necessary as the moon for the tides of our oceans. As much as I wanted that, it wasn't what I was going to do, for more reasons than one.

First, I was yet to forgive myself for murdering eleven humans to count, especially when Carlisle had murdered none. We were too unbalanced in that respect, I needed to overcome that, and forgive myself.

Memories of my human life were becoming fuzzier and fuzzier, but every once in a while I would remember something new, only recently had a remembered something very important to me; my mother's parents.  
They were famers, like my own parents had been, and they died when I was thirteen, but not before they instilled in me some of the most important values I knew. My parents – and Charles, for that matter – had tried their darndest to iron those ideologies out of me, and it pained me to realise that they had very nearly succeeded. My grandparents were the reason I read books, climbed trees and dreamed wild, and vivid dreams. They were the reason I did not want to settle down and marry unless I was madly in love with the man who asked for my hand. My father said that they poisoned my thoughts, but I believed that they nurtured my dreams.

There was one particular thing they instilled in me when I was very young, 'if you must marry, you must marry for love, and if you must love somebody else, you first must love yourself.'

It was a highly uncommon belief among society, but they married for loved despite all that stood against them, they paid no mind to prospects; they listened to their hearts. They considered themselves the lucky ones, everyone else considered them idiots. They'd laugh it off and say to me, 'You always get the oddballs in society, but sometimes the oddballs are the ones who've got it right.'

I believed what they said about loving yourself first, so self-forgiveness was high on my list of priorities, it wasn't coming along too well, but I was getting there… taking small steps.

The second reason, I was not going to tackle Carlisle when he arrived home and confess everything to him, was because I was afraid. I was afraid of so many things, of Edward being wrong and Carlisle not loving me the way that I loved him, of starting something before I was ready, and screwing it up by betraying his trust, and most obviously, I was afraid of loving someone. This was of course, completely daft and it made no sense because I knew that Carlisle was kind and gentle and calm and compassionate, but I had lived in Charles' house for far too long to be instantaneously all right with the concept of love. Not just physical love, but the emotional vulnerability that comes with spiritual love. Naturally, I was exceptionally worried about putting myself in a position where I could get hurt in any way, even though I was very nearly certain that Carlisle could never hurt anything. I always had that seed of doubt inside of me. Healing takes time and I was almost there, but almost means not quite there yet. I needed to know him first. I needed to know how he was when he was angry, and frustrated, and scared, and stressed, and what he was like wanted something more than sanity allowed. I wanted to know what he loved most, and if threw that out the window when he found something that he loved more, because vampires are incapable of change, so if that is how he is now, that is the way he will always be. I needed to know if I'd still love him then, because that's how I'd know it was real. In all honestly, I thought it was real, I believed it was real, but I didn't quite _know._

The third main reason that I kept it bundled up inside, was because he brought home a Ralph Waldo Emerson book a few mornings ago. It was at Edward's request, but he was busy reading something else, so he leant it to me. There was a sentence I found in there that really hit home, "Always do what you're afraid to do," which made me realize that I was afraid to disappoint Carlisle. I wasn't brave, even though he thought I was brave, because I was too afraid of being brave. I was working on that too. I was going to be brave, and I _was_ going to say how I felt, but not today. When reason number one no longer existed, I'd begin to eliminate reason number two, and when reason number two was null and void, I'd tackle reason number three. Only then would I pelt him with pretty poetic prose revealing the secrets of my heart.

I heard Edward groan from the piano bench, so I mentally apologised, wondering how best to distract myself.

He often told me I was driving him insane with my unwillingness to admit to Carlisle, but he couldn't refute my logic, surely.

I listened to the music abruptly stop from downstairs, and Edward's footsteps quickly made their way up the stairs, and to my open door.

"Would you like to participate in a constructive activity?" He asked with eyebrows raised to his hairline and a small smirk playing about his lips. Although Edward was the definition of a gentleman, he was also as sarcastic as they come.

"Is my philosophising not constructive?" I teased.

"If it was about anything other than Carlisle, then yes, but seeing as though it _is _about Carlisle… No."

I laughed at sat up, facing the boy, "I'm sure you had an activity in mind?"

He shrugged, "We could go for a run."

I sighed, "You know I don't like doing that when it's just us. If something were to happen… I can't bear the thought of Carlisle coming home to an empty house and us never returning."

He rolled his eyes, "Fine then. You decide, and you can choose anything except philosophy of love."

I grinned, "Actually there was something I wanted your opinion on."

He narrowed his eyes, "If it's fashion, I'm leaving."

Shaking my head I gestured to the roof, "Is it just me, or is there one square of ceiling that is a fraction of a different colour than the rest of it? I noticed it earlier, but I thought it may have just been a trick of the light."

He narrowed his eyes, squinting at the place near the corner where I pointed.

"You know you have better eyesight than me," he muttered, slightly annoyed by the fact.

"Don't be jealous," I teased, "It's vulgar."

He smirked at my words, knowing far too well the memories of my mother telling me that all I ever did was vulgar.

"I _think_ I can see what you mean, although it is much clearer through your eyes," he murmured from his spot in the doorway, "May I come in?"

"Of course," I stood up from the bed as he quickly crossed the room to stand beneath the point of interest. He reached up to knock on the ceiling beside the square before repeating the action in the middle of the square. The sounds were marginally different.

"I think someone has tried to cover this up…" he mused, "But cover what up?"

"Well, where is the entrance to the attic?"

He turned to me wearing a baffled expression, "We don't have an attic."

I suppressed a laugh, "Are you certain about that? Because I think you just found the entrance."

His mouth was slightly ajar as he realised I was right, then his eyes filled with some kind of wonder, "Well we have to get up there."

I raised my eyebrows, "You mean, cut a hole in the roof?"

He nodded definitively, "I wonder if Carlisle keeps a saw in the garage… Hmm…"

Quickly he turned and dashed out of my room, so I followed him. He ran down the stairs and through the front door, out into the night. We were in the garage only moments later, Edward had a small saw in his hand, and was moving to make his way back into the house.

"Wait," I murmured, he cocked an eyebrow. _Shouldn't we cover the floor and bed first?_

He considered this for a moment, and then nodded before he turned around and grabbed a thick sheet from one of the benches.

He flicked me a quick grin, and then darted back to the house, I was close behind.

When we were back in my bedroom, he laid the sheet over the floor and furniture, and placed the saw on the bed. Then, he moved back underneath the square of different coloured paint, and considered it for a moment. Before I could stop him, he reached up and punched a hole in the roof. The plasterboard crumpled and fell atop his head, littering dust everywhere else.

"Edward!" I gasped, aghast, "What were you thinking?"

He shook the plaster out of his dishevelled hair, and wiped the dust off of his face, and then he looked to me, wide-eyed and innocently, "Well I couldn't very well just start sawing, could I?"

I sighed, "You use a drill, you know those things with the handle that you turn in circles? They drill holes."

He blinked at me blankly for a moment, "I don't think we own one."

I sighed, "You've made a mess."

He shrugged, "This was always going to make a mess, but you were right, you know, I think this was an attic door."

I nodded, "Before you punched a hole through it."

He grinned rather proudly, "I wonder how Carlisle will react to us breaking his house."

A jolt of fear stabbed me.

Edward rolled his eyes, "I'll wager he doesn't mind."

I let out a humourless laugh, "Of course you'll wager that, I'd mind if you broke my house."

He smirked, "Do you mind that I punched a hole in the roof?"

I gave a half shrug, "I don't think I can, I put you up to it."

He grinned, "Then Carlisle won't mind. Look, I did much worse when I was a newborn, I'll just tell him I provoked you."

My eyes widened, "So I'm to take the blame for this?"

He laughed, "No, Esme. I did it, I'll own up to it. Don't worry… Now, to make this hole bigger." He gazed down at the saw in his hands, then back up at the roof, his expression hesitant.

I cocked my head to the side, "Do you know how to use a saw, Edward?"

He looked to me apprehensively, "Uh, no. No I don't."

I grinned, and walked over toward him, "Here, I'll teach you. Would you mind lifting me up, though? I can't reach."

He nodded dutifully, handing me the saw, and wrapping his arms around my waist from behind.

It felt strange to have my feet lifted off of the ground, I felt like a child. I heard Edward chuckle from below.

"So where exactly did you learn to use a saw?" he asked, once I had begun enlarging the hole.

I grinned, "My grandfather taught me. He used to let me help out around his farm; it was our little secret, of course. He needn't give my father more reason to dislike him."

"Your grandparents, they were very different to your parents?" He queried.

I nodded, "They were more free spirited, less concerned about what was respectable. People thought they were… odd, which I suppose they were to some degree, but they were very easy going. They wanted my mother to marry a man she loved, but her parents embarrassed her, so she married to a good man by societal standards. My father wasn't a bad man, just a typical gruff one, but they didn't love each other in the beginning. Perhaps they did in the end, but not the kind of love you'd dream of."

"I don't dream of love," Edward murmured.

I sighed, "I hope you're not too young for that."

"How so?"

"It would upset me greatly to see you alone."

I felt him shrug, "I'll always have you and Carlisle. Unless you want me to leave…"

I laughed, "Oh Edward, darling, that will never happen. I love you too much to ever want to see the back of you."

"Thanks mom," I could hear the smile in his voice, "I love you too, even though you're covering us in even more plaster dust."

I giggled as I finished sawing the perfect square into the ceiling, "I can see the attic," I murmured, looking through the large hole.

"Climb up," he suggested, releasing one arm from my waist to take the saw.

The floor seemed to be only beams that ran horizontally atop the bedroom ceiling, I could reach one of them from where Edward held me, so I grabbed it and effortlessly pulled myself up.

I was right; the floorboards were missing, leaving only the large beams that supported the roof exposed. I could see the plasterboard ceiling of the bedroom beneath the beams and I watched as Edward climbed through the hole we created together.

"Wow," he murmured as he took in the room, my thoughts mirrored his statement exactly.

At either end of the room were large windows, bordered up from the outside, and the ceiling traditionally slanted, to make the height of the room at the sides so low they were hard to reach. The space was filled with flying dust, I imagined them flittering though the moonlight that should have flooded the room had the windows not been hidden from outside view. The room had no light bulbs and therefore no light, but Edward and I could see the beauty of the wooden room just fine.

"I can't believe I never considered that this would exist," he shook his head in astoundment, and I agreed.

We shared a quiet chuckle, for loud noises did not belong in this dust filled wonder, the dance of the motes demanded a state of peacefulness for their silent dance and Edward and I intended to give them that. I wondered to myself, and consequently to Edward, if one day we might remove the wood on the windows, and he answered that he thought it a good idea.

"Imagine this room flooded with light," I whispered as I attempted to find a crack through the boards.

"I imagine it to be rather spectacular."

"Spectacular indeed, just imagine the sunrise painting the walls with hushed pinks and golds, and the motes dancing in the rays, celebrating the morning light."

"And the doctor's return home, the most joyous time of day," Edward whispered wistfully trying his best to imitate my tone.

I shot him a mock-annoyed face.

"Oh, don't pretend that it's not your one of your most favourite times of day."

I rolled my eyes, but the truth was I couldn't deny his words; they weren't at all false, he was right.

"I do apologise for interrupting your poetic description of this place, have you considered writing a romance novel?"

I narrowed my eyes, "Now, why would I do that? I don't even read them."

He shrugged, and smirked, "You seem to know them well enough."

"Edward Antony Masen, you watch your tongue, young man! I don't like what you're inferring."

He chuckled quietly, "I'm sorry, _mom._"

"Good." I couldn't help the grin that spread across my face; I loved the boy far too much for my own good.

He grinned triumphantly at that.

We explored the attic room for a short while, before deciding we had better clean up the mess in the bedroom. Edward was grinning at something I was obviously missing as I dashed over to the hole we had made. I slipped down and landed gently on my feet, but I wasn't quite prepared for the sight of the blonde doctor who gazed at me from the doorway.

One perfect blond brow was cocked, and a small, amused smile played upon his lips.

My eyes widened in shock, and my mouth fell slightly ajar, but he only seemed to find more humour in my surprise.

"Esme," came Edward's voice from above, "Would you please move? I need to get down too."

I looked up to the boy, whose face was smirking down from the hole, _How long have you known?_

He did not answer; his smirk only grew, I chided in my head. He rolled his eyes and moved to hop down, so I took a small step to my left. I looked back to Carlisle who was openly grinning by then, a reaction I didn't understand. His eyes danced with a light I had seen a few times before, the light of excitement.

Edward landed with a soft sound, and his face mirrored Carlisle's, they spent a short moment just grinning at one another, my boys, best friends.

Carlisle cocked his perfect eyebrow once again, "Let me guess… A secret attic?"

Edward chuckled, "How did you know?"

"It was a complete stab in the dark," sarcasm sounded strange on Carlisle's tongue, but in a way, I liked it. "How did you find it?" He wondered, "I never even considered it."

"Nor did I, really. It was Esme who found it. She noticed some irregularities with the paint colour, which were almost too subtle for my inferior eyes," _I never implied such a thing, _he grinned, "So we got a saw, and I punched a hole in the roof, which Esme then made into a square."

His eyebrows shot up once more, "With the saw?"

Edward nodded enthusiastically, "She knows how to use a saw. I was impressed."

Carlisle grinned, "As am I," I could hear the sincerity in his voice. A slight part of me felt proud, the other part felt confused. Weren't gentlemen supposed to be impressed if a lady could cook, and clean, and dress nicely? That's what my mother had always seemed to believe… Perhaps she was wrong all along.

"May I see this secret room?" Carlisle wondered, his question subtly directed toward me.

Edward nodded, "I'll clean up this mess, since I made it. Esme?" he turned to me, "Will you tell Carlisle about your discontent with the house's exterior?"

If I were human, I would have been a deep red. I nodded, "Of course."

I flicked a small grin at Carlisle, who began to walk my way, before I jumped back up into the secret attic.

When he appeared from the hole, he looked around the room with a large smile upon his face, he let out a laugh and repeated Edward's earlier remark, "Wow."

"It's quite spectacular, isn't it?" I murmured.

He nodded, "But the windows are all boarded up."

I grinned, "That was the discontent that Edward mentioned."

He pursed his lips, "Yes. We're going to have to rectify that."

I felt my face lit up with excitement, "Truly?"

He laughed, "Truly. You seem a lot happier today, I'm glad."

I looked down self consciously, and shrugged, wanting to tell him he made it all better, "I'm getting there." I murmured.

"Good. I wondered where the two of you were when I got home, I could hear scuffling around in the roof, and I thought we may have another mouse infestation." He teased.

I giggled, remembering my family of mice in the garage, "I check on them daily."

"I'm sure." He sat down on one of the beams, and looked up at me expectantly, so I wondered over and sat opposite him.

"Did you have a good shift?" I wondered.

He shrugged, "The work is good, yes. It's the colleagues that are the problem."

"How so? Are they not nice?"

"No, they're nice enough, it's only that they insist upon me attending the annual hospital fundraiser every year, it's bad enough when there are medical conferences, what with the dancing and food and wine, often I pretend to be sick, but I have a feeling it won't work this year." He sighed.

Our legs were almost touching between the beams, "When is it?" I wondered.

"Early next month. I suppose I shouldn't complain, I'm just antisocial, for obvious reasons."

I giggled, "Obvious reasons that are not at all your fault."

He grinned, "I often imagine my colleagues faces should they discover that they've been working with a vampire this entire time."

"Part of me is convinced that they wouldn't mind."

He chuckled and lightly kicked my leg with his, so I kicked him back, and soon our legs found themselves entangled in one another, how electrifying that was. Oddly, it was calming at the very same time.

"You really don't mind that we cut a hole in your house?" I murmured doubtfully.

He sighed, "Esme, this is your house as much as it is mine."

I looked down at my hands in my lap, "It's not." I argued back.

He laughed, "Okay. I bought it, but you're part of this family, and seeing as though it's owned by the family, it's yours as it is mine."

"Such an unconventional family," I offered up a small grin.

"But a great one," he reminded me.

"The very best." I agreed.

His grin began to spread wider across his face, at some thought I was sure to hear.

"What are you grinning about, mister?" I teased.

He pretended to be offended, "It's doctor."

Laughter bubbled in my chest, "Distinction without a difference," I teased.

"I'm insulted that you don't recognise my profession. Should I wear my coat around the house? My stethoscope too?"

I pictured him doing this; it wasn't at all a bad mental picture, so I shrugged, "I wouldn't mind." My voice came out saucier than expected so immediately my face fell.

He looked at me oddly, on the verge of laughter.

I covered my face with a hand, "That sounded wrong," I groaned.

His self-control wasn't good enough to keep in his laughter.

"Okay, okay!" I waved my hands in front of my body, "Forget that, tell me what you were smiling about before."

"I do apologise," he choked through his hysterical fit, "But I will never let myself forget that. It was far too fantastic to forget." He took a deep breath trying to steady his laughter, "I was actually grinning about another reason I find you unbearably endearing."

"Mmhm," I tried to look unimpressed, did I really want him to see me as _endearing? _There were many other preferable adjectives…

"You know how to saw."

I sighed, "I know, it's unladylike, and terrible, and I should be ashamed."

His brow furrowed, but his smile remained, "I disagree. I think it's brilliant."

I looked to him dubiously, "Really? Aside from my grandparents, you and Edward are the only two people who don't seemed to be fazed at my inability to be a lady."

He shook his head, "You are a lady to me, a very special and incredible one at that. I think that it's wrong that you were made to be someone who you're not, when the real you is far more beautiful.  
"What I don't understand is why… You spent your whole life living with people who wanted you to be somebody different, and I can't comprehend why they wished for that. You're perfect in your wild dreams and your gentle thoughts, that's the way we love you. I suppose that will take time to comprehend, but oh well," he shrugged, "I guess I'll just have to keep on trying to show you."

It was in that moment, sitting on those beams with my legs intertwined with his, that reason number one began to fade from my list.

* * *

_A.N. As usual, thank you to all my followers and favouriters, readers and reviewers. _

_Much love x_


	25. Giving Her Faith

_Chapter Twenty-Five: Giving Her Faith _

_Ashland, Wisconsin, August 1921_

_Carlisle_

Tuesday mornings were always happy moments. As I took of my coat and hung it up in my office, I smiled to myself, I had the whole night free, at home with my family. Perhaps we'd go for a hunting trip, or debate a new topic of Edward's choice. How funny it is, how quickly things change, four years ago I was at the very height of my loneliness, and now I would never feel alone again. Although Edward may come and go as he pleases, I had a feeling deep rooted inside of me, that Esme would stay with me eternally. Having been alone for two and a half centuries, that was a strange concept to comprehend: never alone again. It was almost daunting and yet, it seemed far too good to be real.

I slipped out of the hospital, mostly unnoticed, throwing a goodbye wave at those observant few who saw me go, and headed by foot to the little main street of Ashland. It was five passed ten in the morning, and the town had awoken, there were few cars travelling down the roads, and pedestrians ambling down the streets. Strangers murmured friendly hellos, and the usual swooning women didn't once miss their opportunity to very nearly faint.

Trying my very best to ignore the unwanted attention, I ducked into the small post shop run by a weathered old man named Brinkley.

"Good day, Doctor!" He greeted when the bell tinkled my arrival.

"Good day, Mr. Brinkley, are you well?" I asked as I made my way up to the small counter.

"Oh, yes, very well thank you, how may I be of service to you today?"

I handed over an envelope, "I'd just like to post some order forms, please."

"Indeed," he nodded, and took the paper, "Will your order arrive here, Doctor?"

"Yes," I confirmed, "My house is too far out for the postman."

"O'course, o'course," he scuffled away to put the letter with the others waiting to be sent.

"Need any help, papa?" A woman's voice called from a room behind the counter.

"Lola, come here dear, come and meet Doctor Cullen," Brinkley called back, flashing me a grin.

I tried to return his smile, but I only felt exhausted at the thought of the attempted set-up that was undoubtedly impending. The woman – Brinkley's daughter – who appeared from the back room, looked tired, with her deep circles beneath her eyes that were not at all aided by her pale skin and jet black hair. She gave me a small smile when her eyes fell on my face, downplaying the reaction that sped up her heart.

"Lola, this is the good Doctor Cullen, Doctor Cullen, this is my daughter Lola. She's a widower. Her husband died of a heart condition a month or so back."

She blushed a deep red, "Thanks, Papa," she whispered quietly, I wouldn't have heard if I have been human, "Tell everyone my life story as soon as I meet them."

I smiled, "It's very nice to meet you, and I'm sorry for your loss."

She lowered her eyes in sadness, and spoke in a muted murmur, "Thank you."

"I just have to pop out back, I think something came in for your young Edward, Doctor Cullen."

He ducked out into the back room, and Lola gazed at me apologetically, "I am so sorry about him, ever since I arrived he's been introducing me to every man in town. It's getting ridiculous."

I grinned, "I can't blame him, nobody wants their children to be lonely."

She nodded, "Your son, Edward, how old is he?"

"Oh, he isn't my son. He is my nephew, he's seventeen."

"Oh," her eyes lit up with a fraction of hope, and her eyes darted down to my ring-less hand, "How lovely."

I nodded, "While Mr. Brinkley is off getting Edward's package, I wonder if you could tell me, do you have the August edition of Vouge yet?"

My main reason was that I really did not want to have to stand looking at her awkwardly, while she tried to be alluring, but Esme did deserve some new clothes.

"Vouge? The ladies fashion magazine?" Her eyebrows hit the ceiling when I nodded, but she composed her expression soon after, "American, British or French?"

I shrugged, "Any of them?"

"We have all."

"Then could I have one of each please?"

She nodded and moved to find the magazines, unlike her father, she did not pry as to who they were for. When Brinkley reappeared with his arms full of thick books, he seemed a little disheartened to see his daughter preoccupied with something that wasn't me.

"What are you doing, Lola?" He asked quietly.

"Fetching these magazines for Doctor Cullen," she held up the thin books.

Brinkley looked to me, "For your niece?"

I nodded, the old man was nice enough, but he was nosier than many I had met before. It was exceptionally frustrating. I saw understanding flicker on Lola's face, but she must have been a smart girl, because she stopped batting her eyelashes after that.

"How old is she, your niece? I never see her around town."

I smiled to myself, if he only knew why, "She's twenty-six."

His eyes widened in surprised, "Oh, I though she'd be younger."

I merely smiled and changed the subject, "Are those for Edward?" I wondered.

The old man nodded, "They look like encyclopaedias."

Just then, the bell above the door tinkled and I was hit with a very familiar scent. I had to refrain from whirling around in fear of using my inhuman speed, but when I did manage to face the door, I found my eyes upon a very familiar face. Edward.

_What's wrong?_ I was suddenly alarmed, _Why are you here? Where is Esme?_

"Mr. Masen!" Brinkley called out in delight, "What a pleasure! Doctor Cullen was just picking up your books for you."

"Ah, so I needn't have come in at all it seems!" Edward flicked a brief look my way, and then quickly said under his breath, "Calm down, Carlisle, and move a little, you're too still. Esme fine. Everything is fine. I needed my textbooks, and I thought you'd forgotten, so I came in. She's is at home painting, probably relishing in the few moments she gets without me asking her what its supposed to look like."

I tried my best not to glare at Edward, _She is still a newborn. This is dangerous._

"Have a little faith," he murmured.

"No, no," Mr. Brinkley chuckled, oblivious to it all, "But your uncle may need the extra set of hands with this lot."

Edward grinned at the man, "It seems that way, doesn't it? Uncle, it's your lucky day!"

The humans laughed, I faked a chuckle, "Yes, it seems so. How much do I owe you, Mr. Brinkley?"

I paid the money and we left, my anger bubbling with every step, "I honestly can't believe how you think this is a good idea, Edward, especially after what we've gone through."

He sighed dramatically, "I'll put these in the car and then run back home, she won't have been alone for longer than ten minutes when I get back."

"Ten minutes is long enough."

"Carlisle," he hissed in frustration, "Trust me in trusting her with this, all right? Her control can handle it."

I sighed feeling somewhat resigned and rather tired, although my anger had not yet dissipated, "I worry about her, Edward."

"I know you do, and you can't help it, but she's stronger than you think." He told me firmly, "Let her show you."

I nodded, and focussed on changing the subject, to forget my anger and worry, "Do you think she'd like her own Emerson book? She didn't seem to want to put it down."

He smirked, "I think you know she'll love it."

I sighed in agreement, "I never picked her out to be a philosopher in such a way, a free thinker, definitely, but a philosopher?"

He gave a slight shrug, "I don't think she loved it so much for the ideologies behind it, but more for the way he wrote it. She is so very attuned to logic, so much so, that the logic of the mind is not wasted upon her; instead she thrives off of it. She's smart. Smarter than we give her credit for… Smarter than _she _gives herself credit for. Always opinionated but never outspoken."

I smiled at the truth in his words, "Oh how I envy your knowledge of her mind. I would almost die to know, but then I should never see her again, and that would be the worst of all punishments imaginable."

"I find that funny," he said, but he did not laugh, "And perhaps it is not my place to say, but forgive me, I'll say it anyway, she wants the exact same thing. Easily solved, is it not? I'm positive she'd thrive off of the logic in your brain rather than a man she's… never met before. So perhaps you should just tell her?"

I cocked an eyebrow at my son, "She does?"

He gave me a lopsided grin, "I think you know the answer to that, trust yourself, _father_."

"Stop saying it like I am your spiritual leader." I laughed.

He chuckled devilishly at that, "You don't realize that you are."

We had reached the car in the hospital parking lot by then, and I decided that I wasn't going to ask him what he meant, because I was inclined to believe that I did not want to know.

When we had loaded the books into the car, he melted into he shadows and ran back home, while I ducked into the bookshop and purchased a very nice copy of Emerson's works. It was then that I headed home. Edward was waiting in the garage for me, "I was right, you know? She'd inside, and absolutely fine. I even checked her eyes. No humans. So, do you mind if I go to Duluth today? There's a seminar on predicted technological advances in the next decade."

_Sounds interesting, _I handed him the keys, relieved that Esme was all right, and moved to get the books out, _Tell me about it afterward?_

He grinned and nodded. I would have once asked to go with him, but I preferred to spend the day with Esme.

"I thought so."

_Have you said goodbye to Esme?_

He smirked, "Yes, and _I_ even had the nerve to kiss her on the cheek" He snickered.

I gave him a lopsided grin, _Be nice._

"It's something you're not brave enough to do," he opened the driver's door and hopped in.

"How much do you want to wager on that?" I grinned in challenge.

"If you do it, I'll go to the dressmaker to put in the next order, but if you don't then you'll do it until she can go herself," he grinned mischievously.

I laughed, and held my spare hand out for him to shake, "We have a deal." It wasn't much to lose if I didn't do it, I already placed every order she made.

He chuckled again as he shook my hand; "You'll lose your nerve when you see her. You always do."

He turned the key in the ignition, and backed out of the garage chuckling to himself. I stood in the there for a while after he had gone, wondering why on Earth I made the bet with him, despite not being bothered by shopping for Esme, I now felt obliged to win the be. The thought made me so hot inside, I was filled with anxiety, and excitement, and dread. The problem was not that I didn't want to, in fact, that was the exact opposite of the problem. It was an innocent peck on the cheek, but it was so much more to me… I groaned, why did I let Edward trick me into this? He knew I couldn't resist his little teasing challenges. I took a deep breath, and headed toward the house, hyper-aware that I had never kissed anyone on the cheek before... But _she_ had kissed _me_ on the cheek.

How silly I sounded. I was two hundred and eighty years old, and fretting over pecking a woman on the cheek. It wasn't that astronomical of a matter... except to me... it was. My father had not been affectionate, and my mother was long gone. I had not met a woman in my life who held my heart, and vampires showed absolutely no affection to those who weren't their mates, even coven members rarely embraced one another. So naturally, until Esme, my personal space had been my personal space (aside from the few nurses I had encountered that knew no propriety). But I didn't want my personal space to always be mine, I wanted to share it with her... most of the time. I wasn't ready to relinquish my independence fully, just yet. But a kiss on the cheek wouldn't do that. The few times I had been close to Esme were spur-of-the-moment occurrences, they were not planned as this one was. Oh, this was worse than wondering if I should embrace her on her birthday...

Deep breaths, Carlisle, I told myself as I neared the house, deep breaths.

I could smell her in the dining room when I entered, if I possessed a beating heart it would have been keeping perfect time to helicopter blades by then. I kept telling myself to take calming breaths. She hadn't appeared in the doorway beside her first masterpiece yet, so perhaps she was absorbed in her deepest thoughts again. Keeping a tight hold on the books as though they were a lifeline, I crept into the dining room. She was standing with her back to me, gazing down at something on the table. I took this as my chance. Quietly sneaking up behind her, I worked up the courage to win Edward's and my bet, by gently pressing my lips upon her soft cheek. I had kissed her forehead before, as well as her hair, but never something so soft and heavenly as her full cheek.

"Good morning," I murmured, relieved to see she was grinning.

She laughed, "You gave me a fright."

Oh, how I loved that about her, she was the only vampire I knew who could be given a fright.

She looked down to the pile of books in my hands, and grinned widely, "Books," she laughed.

"Yes?"

"You're too handsome to be a dusty professor, has anyone told you that before?"

I grinned, _she _found _me_ handsome, "No, but there's a first time for everything, is there not?"

She nodded, "There most definitely is."

I looked to the painting on the table that she was examining, "Oh, Esme, it's incredible."

"You like it?" she murmured softly.

"Very much," I nodded, taking in the scene that she had begun mere hours before her slip. More than anything, _that_ told me that she was finally healing, finally beginning to forgive herself for something that was not entirely her fault. "Where should we hang it?"

She looked to me; amused, "Are you going to want to hang all of my paintings?"

I nodded definitively, "Yes. Yes I am."

She giggled, "Well, you're more than welcome to have this one. I don't know that it's large enough to hang on the wall, but it would fit in an upright frame."

"I could put it on my desk?" I suggested, "I think I do have an empty frame around here somewhere," I mused, putting the books down on the table and moving to leave the room before I thought to tell her, "Oh," I pointed to the books, "Emerson and the textbooks are yours, but the Vouge magazines are for Edward."

She giggled at my silly joke as I left the room, "Thank you, Carlisle!"

I returned quickly after having found a frame, to find her nose already buried in her new book. We both relocated to the study, where I placed her painting on my desk, and admired the three smiling faces of my family as she took her spot on the chaise.

I retrieved a few reports from my bag, which really needed attention and settled into the quiet morning, intending to find a book and sit on the floor near the chaise once I was done.

I soon realised however, that this was not meant to be the way I fill my day.

Never in my life had I experienced a discontent for spending the day hiding away in my study buried in a book, until right then. I shifted my weight uncomfortably again; staring at the towering wooden bookshelves, wondering what book could hold my attention, knowing fully well that the answer was none. As long as the creature curled up on the chaise was at the forefront of my mind, no book could captivate me more. Every so often, she would turn a page and my eyes would raise to her face. Every so often, she'd wipe a tendril of her hair back behind her ear where it had fallen from, and I would stop and stare. Every single time she'd take a breath, I'd catch another whiff of her scent, and sit transfixed in my chair. Every time she batted an eyelash, my mind would stray away to a happier place where she loved me and I could hold her as she whispered the sweet words that filled her head, as she told me stories of the things she loved like the way the stars were millions of colours in the night sky, and not just one. Or the way that the sunrise was painted by pixies that no one saw because they were the things that only hearts could divine, and I would fall even more in love with her with every single murmur of her beautiful voice.

_Carlisle,_ my sanity hissed, _get a grip._

I sighed and caught her small giggle. Turning around I caught her staring my way, she dropped her gaze back to her book immediately, but it was too late.

"What are you laughing at?" I murmured, smiling.

She looked back up, an impish grin playing upon her lips. "You."

"I figured that much."

She pursed her lips, biting back the laughter that threatened to slip out. Over the passed week her mood had improved drastically, of course, I still caught her gazing out into the distance with sadness pooling in her rapidly changing irises, but as a general rule, she was almost back to how she was before, except… more comfortable. She rarely second guessed herself anymore; she seemed to forget to fret over whether or not her actions were ladylike, merely content to accept happiness. Perhaps I was reading too much into it, but she seemed as though she was realising that she could hold her own. It almost seemed to me, like she was beginning to accept who she was, and forgetting about who she was supposed to be. That made me happier than I thought possible, because I loved the woman who climbed trees and dreamed of being waist deep in mud, not the other one... Well, actually, I loved her too.

"What about me is so funny?" I queried playfully.

"You're being very uncharacteristically indecisive this morning."

I sighed, "I am, I can't think of a book I'd like to reread."

"Me either," she grinned, "So I must thank you for this," she held up the Emerson book in her hands.

"You are most welcome. Are you content with spending the morning reading?" I wondered.

She shrugged, "I wouldn't be heartbroken if you wanted to do something else."

I grinned, but shrugged as well, "I can't think of anything." I felt my shoulders slouch in despair at my lie, I could think of many things to do, and each one bolder than the next. I lost myself to my thoughts for a moment.

"Carlisle…?" the beautiful creature murmured in a curious and almost singsong voice, which she always used before asking a question.

"Hmm?" I blinked, coming back to reality. She was gazing up at me from the chaise, grinning mischievously.

Her eyes darted to the bookshelves then back to my face before her features settled in a thoughtful arrangement, "What would you do if I rearranged your bookshelves?"

I gazed back at her curiously; slightly alarmed that she'd want to. She picked up on my slight discomfort at the idea, and laughed quietly to herself, "I'm not going to, they're yours to order, I was just curious as to what your reaction would be, I've never seen you angry."

I gave her a grin, mostly in relief, as I considered her question, "Yes, I suppose I'd probably be a little put out, although I don't think I'd be angry, per say. My father would get angry often in my youth, so I learned very quickly that it does not solve much. In fact anger often creates more issues than anything else. I suppose I'd just ask you if you minded me putting them back." I grinned impishly, expecting a giggle, but she merely looked at me with a confused expression.

"You wouldn't yell?"

I shook my head; "It'd be hard to make me _that _angry."

She beamed back at me, so I shot her an impish grin, "Please don't try to make me that angry," I chuckled, "However, I truly don't think it's possible, little apple."

She giggled, hiding her face between the pages of the books. I sighed exuberantly, "Lets find something new to do."

She peeked over her book; her eyes alight with happiness, "Like what?"

I shrugged and held my hand out for her to take, "We'll think of something."

She put the book down by her side, and reached out for my hand like a small child, as though it was a lifeline she so greatly needed to take, as though she had been waiting an eternity for me to offer.

I grinned and led her outside into out large back garden.

"I'm sad to see the flowers have died," I murmured.

She shrugged, "The beauty about flowers, is that you can always grow more. It does not hurt nor harm the Earth."

"Indeed, it does quite the opposite." I agreed.

She chuckled quietly, "I am ever so glad that you seem to approve of my liking for growing flowers."

"I do."

She looked up to me wearing another mischievous expression, she was in a very cheeky mood this morning, "Brilliant, because I've been planning some magnificent things for next year, I'm thinking palm trees and banana trees," she spoke in her singsong voice, swinging our hands jovially.

I chuckled, "We might have to build a giant greenhouse so they will grow."

She looked up at me wearing a confused smile, "You know I was only joking."

I shrugged, "Yes, but if you wanted palm trees…" I trailed off.

She merely beamed up at me.

"You are enjoying your book very much?" I wondered.

"Yes, very much so, I read _Nature_ and _Character _today."

"To which did you favour more?"

She thought about it for a second, and then shook her head, "I can't decide. Although I think the poem _Character_ is my favourite poem of his."

"How so?" I couldn't quite hide my intrigue, I had read all of Emerson's works, I had even met the man, but I couldn't discern why that particular poem would be her favourite.

She lowered her eyes to the floor, grinned shyly and shook her head.

I suppressed a groan; "The curiosity is burning me alive."

"It's a good thing you can't die."

"Ah, but remember, the only thing that can kill you and me is fire."

She giggled, and then sighed, "Oh, all right, fine. It reminds me of you."

I cocked a brow, my heart flying with elation, feeling utterly flattered, "Oh, well… thank you."

She looked up to me, embarrassment swimming in her eyes, "Does it not remind you of yourself?"

I chuckled, "Not at all."

She grinned somewhat self-assuredly, "Then I was right about the muddy mirror."

"That does remind me, I've been meaning to clean all of the mirrors in the house."

Her brow furrowed, and a single laugh escaped her lips, "Why?"

"I need to see myself the way that you see me, to inflate my ego bigger than a grain of sand," I joked.

She laughed light-heartedly, filling my soul with joy. "Modesty is a redeeming quality," she teased, "You shouldn't wish it away."

"And to what do I need be redeemed for?"

"All of your shortcomings, Doctor Cullen." She stated matter-of-factly.

I tried to look offended, "I don't have any shortcomings!"

"Oh, look, now you've lost your modesty too," she gave a little _tsk_ and shook her head.

"At least I have my sanity," I shrugged.

"No…that went out the window a long time ago," she couldn't hide her grin, and I couldn't hide my laughter, so we walked like that for a while, teasing and laughing, weaving on and out of the fringe of trees, until she dropped my hand and giggled playfully, scaling the nearest trunk. I followed after her, still revelling in the beauty of our laughs intertwined with one another. It took me a while to catch her, she exerted all of her newborn speed, but in the end I think she wanted to be caught by me. I wrapped my arms around her waist from behind and lifted her off of the ground, spinning her around in a circle. Her free laughter was the music that my heart would dance to for the rest of eternity.

"Carlisle…?" She sang again when we were back on the ground, signalling she had a question to ask.

"Yes…?" I mimicked her tone, and earned myself a giggle.

"Do you go to church often?" Her question took me by surprise, I wasn't entirely sure if I wanted to give her an honest answer, but some part of me knew I would always give her what she wanted.

"No, I haven't been to church in such a long time, not since my transformation," I sighed, my thoughts taking a slightly depressing path, "I suppose that is another reason I am lost to God."

She raised her eyebrows, "Did I not convince you otherwise?"

"You did," I smiled, "Up to a point."

"But you believe you have to go to church, to really know Him?"

I cocked a brow, "You don't?"

She shook her head, a small smile playing about her lips, "No, I don't. Although I don't think myself well informed enough to say this, please forgive me, but I'm going to say it anyway."

I chuckled at her resemblance to Edward's words earlier in the day, "Please do."

"Acts 17, verses 24 to 28."

Knowing exactly what she was thinking, I couldn't help the large smile that spread across my face, "Indulge me."

"God that made the world and all things therein, seeing that he is Lord of heaven and earth, dwelleth not in temples made with hands; neither is worshipped with men's hands, as though he needed any thing, seeing he giveth to all life, and breath, and all things; and hath made of one blood all nations of men for to dwell on all the face of the earth, and hath determined the times before appointed, and the bounds of their habitation; that they should seek the Lord, if haply they might feel after him, and find him, though he be not far from every one of us:for in him we live, and move, and have our being; as certain also of your own poets have said, For we are also his offspring.  
"I might be completely wrong, but I take that to mean that if you want to find God, He's already found you, whether you're inside a church or not."

I looked at her in awe, her mind was not one I had readily come across, so open, so loving, so accepting, "How I envy Edward," I murmured, "What I wouldn't give for a look inside of that mind."

She giggled, "It has easy access, it opens with a single question."

I grinned widely she and Edward _must _have discussed this... Or perhaps, she had been thinking it and he had been listening in, "Then what are you thinking now?" I wondered in a bout of confidence.

She was quiet for a moment, but when she spoke, she did so cautiously and curiously, "I'm wondering how opposed would you be, about going to a church again?"

"Ever again?"

"Yes," she nodded, her eyes wide and wondering.

"Not opposed at all."

She beamed, "In that case, there's something I would like to show you." She held out her small hand, offering it up for me to take, which I gladly and eagerly did.

We flew through the forest, her like the woodland fairy I had always known her to be, with her gentle curls pinned to the nape of her neck, a few wayward strands escaping, and her knee length white-with-pink-stripes dress flowing behind her. Part of her hated wearing shorter dresses – a part of her that was growing quieter every day – because she did not view them as very proper, but I assured her that it was merely a changing of the times, something that we couldn't protest about. I knew that another part of her, the wild, untamed and passionate part, absolutely loved the freedom shorter skirts allowed, especially when one was a nymph running through the wood.

She led me to a small area I had not known before, and she slowed our pace as we climbed a small hill. The forest was dense on the other side, and we walked at a human pace, enjoying the gentle morning light. As the bush got thicker, and thicker, the shadows engulfed us, and it almost looked like nighttime. I couldn't repress my smile when I caught sight of our destination.

The quaint church was little, it sat in one of the many valleys of the Ashland' forests, surrounded, and somewhat consumed, by trees. It looked as though it had been abandoned for years; most of the stone roof had caved in, and nature had taken her claim on God's house, what with the leaves on vines that grew up what remained of the stone walls, and formed a new roof atop the old chapel, as well as the moss that covered the stairs leading up to the archway that held half of a rotted wooden door.

It was more of a ruin than it was a building, and I had quite the inkling that was why Esme adored it so. It did not look as though it belonged nestled in the dark corners of a more nightmarish Brother's Grimm tale, as many run-down churches sitting alone in the middle of a forest would, but rather it looked as though it belonged in the forefront of a fairytale that ended in happily ever after.

I walked forward, not letting go of her hand, and carefully made my way up the mossy steps. I pushed gently on the door, which swung open with a loud groan, to reveal a long rectangular stone room. The pews on either side of the aisle were wooden and rotted; the leaves had made their way inside, and weaved around the damp wood, the light from beyond the leafy canopy above, filtered through in strange ways casting rays in odd places, highlighting things I'd never have looked at otherwise. There was a large cross at the end of the room above the alter, and almost magnetically, I was drawn forward, towing the beauty behind me.

I knelt before the cross and closed my eyes, only vaguely aware that she too was doing the same. I prayed for a short while, mostly just in thanks, but was soon distracted by the eyes I felt on my face. I smiled to her, but kept looking forward, she'd know it was encouragement to talk.

"How do you have faith in things that you do not see?" She whispered softly.

"That is the definition of faith for me," I whispered back.

"Hebrews 11, verse 1?" Her words came out matter-of-factly, and more like a statement than a question.

"Yes," My grin grew, "'Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.' You know your bible verses."

"I went to church when I was young. Paying attention was less tedious than drifting off, oh, and I read one of your bibles when I ran out of everything else."

I opened my eyes and turned to face her, extremely aware of how close our heads were again, and I fondly shook my head, "You'll never cease to amaze me."

She let out a laugh, "I can try, if that's a challenge."

I grinned, "Please do."

I turned by face back to the cross and bowed my head once again, praying for patience and self control in regards to everything I wanted with Esme.

"Has ever your faith been shaken?" She whispered again.

"Many more times than I should like to admit."

"And yet, it is always restored to its full strength," although her words were questioning, she delivered them as a statement.

"Well, I haven't attended church in two and a half centuries," I joked lightly.

She giggled softly, "But you never once lost your faith, that's what matters is it not? That despite your presence not being in a church, your presence was always with Him? Is not all you must do to find yourself in His kingdom, to know Him, to love Him and to act in His name?"

I was quiet for a moment before I opened my eyes once again and faced her, "And you don't know faith?"

"Oh, I know faith," she assured me wide-eyed, "But my faith isn't in God. You may have lived almost three centuries having not seen anything to say he's not real, but in my twenty seven years on Earth I've only ever come across one thing I could confidently say proves the existence of Him."

I raised an eyebrow in questioning once again, "And what is that?" I wondered.

"You," she stated softly, "You are the only proof to me that God exists, but whether or not I should have faith in that or faith in you is a different matter." She turned away and trained her eyes on the cross before us, "You give me a life that I want to live, a hope I don't have to fight for, assurance that is constant and true, and sure it's not _easy_, but it's _real_. You walk in a direction that I want to follow, and not to follow dutifully, but to follow in the way one should want to follow, with real faith, and true faith, the kind of faith that is enviable and coveted, a faith that will never be without love."

I stared at her for a long moment, as she stared straight ahead, then I gently grabbed her hands that rested on her lap, and held them tightly in my own.

She turned around to look at me, our eyes merely inches apart, and I whispered, "You bring out the best in me."

She smiled softly, "And you me."

I could have kissed her then, and would have probably, in the spur-of-the-moment way that I had almost done before, and I wouldn't have even been nervous about it, but after all I _had_ just asked the Lord to prevent me from doing such things, so right on cue, thunder clapped, and rain came pouring through the canopy of leaves.

Esme looked up in alarm as the first few droplets fell on her face, then she looked back to me, her expression almost maniacal, "Oh no," she whispered.

"What's wrong?" I wondered, frightened at her sudden shift in mood.

"It's raining," her face was frozen in alarm, a standard vampire reaction.

"Yes?" I searched her face for an answer but found none.

She soon came back to life, her eyes wide, "I'm wearing white," she stated it as thought it should mean something to me.

"Yes?" I was still beyond confused.

"_White is see-through when it's wet_!" She exclaimed before turning frantically, and bolting out the door.

I chuckled to myself quietly, and spent a second longer thanking the Lord again, for He had made me the very happiest of all men.

Then I bolted after her. As I always would.

* * *

_Character_

_Ralph Waldo Emerson_

"_The sun set; but set not his hope:_

_Stars rose; his faith was earlier up:_

_Fixed on the enormous galaxy,_

_Deeper and older seemed his eye:_

_And matched his sufferance sublime_

_The taciturnity of time._

_He spoke, and words more soft than rain_

_Brought the Age of Gold again:_

_His action won such reverence sweet,_

_As hid all measure of the feat."_

* * *

_A.N. So, the whole reveal thing that you're wanting… yeah, I should be honest… it's not going to happen._

_._

_I'm just teasing, it is actually less than five chapters away, just in case you were feeling needy ;)_

_THANK YOU ALL! _

_Much love x_

_Disclaimer: The author does not claim ownership of characters, referenced materials or places in this piece. Views expressed are opinions of fictional characters and do not reflect the authors own opinions/beliefs. _


	26. Showing Him Love

_Chapter Twenty-Six: Showing Him Love_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, September 1921_

_Esme_

He sighed mockingly, his jovial spirit warming my heart; "You sure know how to be bossy when you want to be."

"And here I was thinking that's what motherly figures were for."

His grin split his whole face, his beautiful teeth gleaming in the moonlight, a rare occurrence, "Yes, you're right. Mothers always blackmail their sons into ruining their father's houses."

I flicked him with the cloth I was holding, "He's happy when I'm happy," I shot Edward a wink, and he chuckled, knowing I spoke the truth.

It had been just over a week since Edward and I had discovered the hidden attic entrance in my bedroom, and my boys had taken down the planks that hid the windows that very day, but as far as Carlisle had been told – what he had figured for himself was a completely different story – I hadn't decided what we were going to use the attic for. Every single time I considered it, I merely spent the time marvelling over how he suggested _I_ choose the purpose of the extra room, because, and I quote "It's your room, you choose."

He gave me two rooms.

_Two rooms!_

Perhaps I was overly excited about that, but he could tell, and that made him happy, so I didn't mind embarrassing myself by diving into his arms shouting a million thank yous into his shoulder.

I loved this attic, I loved the way it was broken and empty and old, because it had potential, and more than anything else, I think potential reached and realised is one of the most exquisite things. I just knew that this attic could be extraordinary if only a little love was invested. Now, I knew little of investments, having listened in on a few of Edward and Carlisle's conversations about money – that I didn't really think were meant for my ears, but they insisted were – and I had come to believe that investing love in something, generally promised a good return.

I heard Edward chuckling as he lined a plank of wood on his brand new sawhorse, and marked out measurements.

It was an hour until Labour Day, so Edward and I were labouring. Naturally. We were planning on revealing it to Carlisle tomorrow, which made sense to us, because Labour Day was designed to celebrate and appreciate the achievements of workers, and we were hard workers.

We had saved the wood that was removed from the windows, and we were using it to make floorboards for the bare beams that ran along the floor. Over the passed few days, Edward had been smuggling pots upon pots of white paint home because I had decided that I liked white for walls and floors, it made everything seem brighter, and more open. So while he was sawing the wood, with his newfound sawing skills, I was sanding down the boards he had completed, and coating them in the rich white he chose from the hardware store.

And I absolutely loved it.

Edward had jokingly cut us both some kind of aprons out of an old sheet that was useless to all of us, so we looked a lot like ghosts in the night; with our white sheets and white skin. It was moments like these with Edward that I would cherish for the rest of eternity, and I hoped to a God I wasn't sure existed, that many more would follow. Sometimes I felt as though I loved him so much that I was going to burst with joy and happiness. I had never felt such a way in my whole human life, but in a matter of months, I was graced with two of the best people on Earth, and they loved me.

Lucky didn't even begin to describe it.

"I think we're almost done with the cutting, and your earlier planks look like they're nearly dry. Would you like me to paint the other side of them once I'm done?"

I nodded, "Yes, please, but would you sand that one, once you're finished cutting it?"

"Of course, m'lady."

I giggled, "Oh, Edward, isn't this just such fun?"

He chuckled, "I am rather enjoying it, I've never done anything like it."

"It's good to try new things," I murmured.

"Although, I think you're enjoying this more than me," he pointed out, and I agreed, I was enjoying this very much.

"It's like painting a picture, but on a grander scale. Instead of covering a canvas, we're filling a room. A place that can be lived in and enjoyed, I think that is so much more extraordinary than a painting."

"So, a room is a work of art to you?" He wondered.

I nodded, "A whole house is work of art, a place where magic is made and love is found. A house should be more than a house, it should be a home, and it should be a haven. A safe place, where everyone is comfortable and everyone is loved."

He blew the saw dust off of the final piece of wood, then grinned back up at me through the darkness, "So that's what you hate about the curtains. They're secretly judging us and causing tangible awkwardness float through the air and seep into our skin."

I laughed freely, "Oh, stop teasing me."

He rolled his eyes, "I think I'm entitled to a little teasing, for being so good when you're bossing me around."

I handed him a paintbrush when he reached my side and moved the pot of paint between us, "You offered to help." I reminded him teasingly.

He winked, "I might rethink that next time."

I laughed, and went back to my measured brushstrokes, every so often catching a glimpse of white droplets flying through the air. I turned to look at Edward when I realised that he was getting more paint on the grass and me more than the wood plank. The boy had a terrible painting technique, as well as a large smirk upon his face.

"Stop flicking me with your paint! You're getting it on my sheet."

He raised an eyebrow, "Why is that any trouble? Are you planning on sleeping in it?"

"I will forget that I am supposed to be a motherly figure to you, and flick you with this paint if you don't stop being an intentionally terrible painter."

He chuckled lowly, "You wouldn't."

I pursed my lips, knowing he was right, "Perhaps. But I will find an alternate punishment."

"Oh, a punishment?" He deliberately flicked more paint my way, "Well now, since I'm already in trouble, why not make it worse?"

I narrowed my eyes, but couldn't help the smile that spread across my face, how was I supposed to be mad at the boy when I loved him so much?

He knew this, of course, and that's why my threat didn't bother him. There was absolutely nothing that he could ever do, that would lessen my love for him. I did notice, however, that in the minutes, and hours, which followed, his technique improved greatly. It was nearing three in the morning by the time all of the planks were white and dry, so we headed inside, chucking our sheets in the washing room, we headed upstairs to cut out our new attic entrance. We decided to make the new attic entrance near the door to Carlisle's painting storage room, and made sure that the spot we had chosen wasn't directly underneath a beam.  
This time, Edward didn't punch a hole in the roof – he still wanted to – but I convinced him that we should keep the plasterboard and try to fashion it back into a cover for the gaping hole we were going to create. He agreed. We weren't quite sure how we were going to work any of it, but we had a kind of trial-and-error plan.

Edward held me up to the roof as I figured out how to work the new, and rather complex, drill that he had purchased from Duluth a few days earlier. It didn't take long for my vampire brain to work out, and soon after we had a nice neat square of plasterboard and a more convenient entrance into the attic.

Getting our newly painted planks up was not the easiest feat, with the small area we had to fit them through, but we eventually managed. It was coming six in the morning when all of the planks were sitting in a neat pile atop the beams, which left us little time before Carlisle was due home at eight.

"Two hours," I murmured, "It's a good thing we don't get tired."

Edward nodded, "This has been a big job, but it's been fun."

I agreed, and then we each grabbed a hammer and a box of nails, and began hammering down the floorboards. We knew the room wouldn't be ready by the time Carlisle got home, which was fine, because we didn't want to finish the room without him. We had both agreed that painting the walls would be something he'd enjoy doing, if not just watching Edward and I do it. That's why we had decided to prepare the floor and only the floor. Well, there was another surprise I had in store for the room.

Edward had purchased a large easel on one of his many shopping days – which also, much to my surprise, included placing my newest dress order at the dressmakers, something that he had never done before – upon my request, so I could place my newest painting on it. I wasn't one for using easels as I painted; I much preferred a flat surface, rather than an upright one, but I thought it would be perfect for display purposes.

The scene I had painted for this particular room was that of the church I took Carlisle to five days ago. I hoped it would always remind him of the God he loved, and the faith I had.

Since that day, Carlisle had been more open with me, sharing his thoughts on numerous matters without me having to ask for them. This was something I was so greatly relieved about, for I had always felt as though I was prying when I queried everything so much, but his openness led me to believe that he wanted me to know all the things I dreamed of knowing about him. This was most certainly aiding in eradicating reason number two off of my list of reasons why I couldn't admit my love for Carlisle Cullen. Oh, Lord, even his name sent shivers of delight through me. There was something so heavenly about it, something so gentle just like him, so…

"Esme," Edward warned.

"I apologise," I murmured, I knew he was tired of my lovey thoughts of Carlisle, I tried my best, but there were some things I just couldn't control…

"So," Edward called loudly, I had to fight a giggle, "Have you thought of what college classes you might take when your newborn years are over?"

I shook my head, "Not really. I don't particularly want to attract too much attention… so not mathematics."

Edward shrugged, "The world isn't quite as backward as you think, Esme. I'd like to take some mathematics classes, so we could take them together? You've almost learned everything I know in our little lessons."

Sweet Edward had been teaching me complex calculus. It was fantastic.

"I would enjoy that, and feel much better for having you there with me."

He grinned, "Then we shall take mathematics together."

"Your new semester starts tomorrow?" I wondered even though I knew the answer.

He nodded, "Yes."

"What subject are you most looking forward to?"

He looked thoughtfully down at the nail he was hammering into the wood, "Human anatomy, I think. Physiology too, it will be nice to know exactly what Carlisle is talking about when he describes a surgery. I have a fair idea, I'm just not one hundred percent with him all of the time, which is frustrating. I can often see it in his head, but he tries not to visualise it in his mind too much, it's all very red."

I nodded knowingly, "I have no idea how he does it."

"Nor do I, he's had a lot of practise, of course, but I think his level of self-control is very nearly a gift."

"That doesn't surprise me," I chuckled, "He's special."

"Yes, I know very well that _you _think so."

My chuckles turned into laughter, "And so do you. Admit it. I see the way your eyes shine with adoration when you look at him."

Edward cleared his throat uncomfortably, although he had no reason to do so, "Yes, he is an extraordinary person. I'll not deny that… But I wouldn't go so far to say my eyes _shine with adoration,_ you're letting the poetic side of you take too much control of your mouth, mother."

I shrugged, "You love me."

He grinned, "I'll not deny that either. You're also an extraordinary person."

I put my hammer and nail down, and looked back over at him, he was pointedly staring at his working hands. I giggled and crawled over to him, wrapping him in my arms, "As are you, my darling."

I could feel the smile in his cheeks against my neck, as he wrapped his arms around me.

When I pulled away from him, I managed to get his eyes to look into mine, "Thank you for helping me with this. I love you so much, you have one of the two kindest hearts I have ever come across."

He grinned, "I love you too, mom," he paused, "Is that enough sentimentality for today?"

I pretended to look shocked and offended, "But the day has just begun!"

He groaned, but he was wearing a smile on his beautiful face. Laughing, I crawled back over to my hammer and nails, and continued hammering down the white floorboards.

Once we were done, at half passed seven (we hadn't _fully_ utilized vampire speed) we stood near the window and admired our handiwork.

"We should have probably painted them after we put them down, then the nails wouldn't be so… silver." He murmured, his arm tightly around my shoulders.

"But knowing us, we would have traipsed paint all throughout the house, and ruined our clothes."

He chuckled and looked down at our feet, neither of us liked wearing shoes in the house; he preferred socks, I preferred stockings, which would have been covered in paint had we painted indoors.

"Yes," he grinned at me "Knowing us."

We didn't spend long admiring our planks, Edward dashed off to retrieve the easel and other furnishings we had planned to place in the room, while I retrieved my cloth from earlier, to wipe down the windows. Once the windows were clean and the furniture in place, Edward and I each grabbed a small paintbrush to colour the silver nails white, hoping they'd dry in the twenty-or-so minutes that remained.

"I think we've done a good job," he remarked, when we stood shoulder to shoulder in the washroom, scrubbing the paint off of our granite hands.

"Do you think Carlisle will like it?" I wondered.

Edward nodded, "And I think he'll be glad that we've left some for him to help us with. He knows somethings up, but if it's a surprise, he doesn't want to pry."

I smiled lovingly as I gazed out the window, "He's so thoughtful."

"So romantic," Edward teased in a whisper.

"Oh, shush you. Are there any girls in your classes up at Duluth that you are keen on?" I teased back.

"No," his voice was cold, "And that would be wrong, anyway. They're human."

I sighed, "Indulge your poor mother, Edward, I don't want to think you'll be alone for eternity."

"Carlisle was alone for nearly three hundred years," he shrugged, "He seems alright."

"That's because you've never known a Carlisle who doesn't have you."

"I can see him in his head, remember?" Edward handed me a cloth to dry my hands after I turned off the tap.

"Edward, people rarely ever see themselves clearly, you know. So gauging an accurate opinion of what you believe a person is like, based soley upon what you have seen in their own head will be tampered by unintentional bias… and people lie too. I'm sure they can even do it in their heads. No, I know they even do it in their heads, because people sometimes lie to themselves. Just because you read their mind, doesn't mean you know them as intimately as they know themselves."

"I see what he wants me to see, is that what you're trying to say?"

I gave him a small smile, "Yes, I suppose it is."

Edward was thoughtful for a moment; his face was almost… modest, "Yes, yes I suppose you're right."

_Modesty suits you Edward, it reveals your heart._

He laughed half-heartedly, moving for the doorway, "You see more good in me than there actually is."

I put the towel down and followed him out of the small washroom, hearing tyres heading our way on the small road that connected to our driveway. _Is that him?_ I wondered.

Edward nodded, "He had a good shift," a small smile played about the boy's lips, I wasn't quite sure of the meaning behind it. Edward didn't explain, so I didn't ask, not wanting to impose on a secret.

Edward sighed, "When you finally tell him you love him, ask him about the nurses, Mable and Ruby, he should be able to tell you some very amusing stories. Much to his chagrin."

Fear suddenly sprouted in my chest, "He's not… you know… with them?"

Edward cocked an amused eyebrow, "In love with them? No." He chuckled, "But I can't say the same for them, although Mable would never tell Ruby how she feels, because Ruby would begin to gossip about her, and make it exceptionally uncomfortable for her to continue working at the hospital, a job which she absolutely loves."

Relief washed the fear away, upon learning of the nurse's unrequited love, "I suppose he gets that everywhere he goes?" The car pulled onto the driveway, and sped along the gravel.

"You suppose correctly," Edward nodded.

I sighed, "It's his fault for being so handsome."

Edward chuckled, "It's a vampire thing."

Carlisle parked the car in the garage and began his sprint over to the house; I knew he'd be paying attention to our conversation. "I'm not so sure," I murmured, "I think part of it is a Carlisle thing," I grinned listening to the footsteps make their way to the front door.

"What's a Carlisle thing?" The doctor wondered as he opened the door, letting the morning light flood in around him, and illuminate his entire glorious being, as though he really was something Holy.

"Making nurses swoon," Edward grinned, Carlisle groaned, removing his hat and holding it in his spare hand.

"That," he closed the door, "Is my least favourite part of the hospital."

"That's not true," Edward teased, "Mable and Ruby amuse you… Especially Ruby."

Carlisle inhaled deeply, which made Edward chuckle, "I prefer not to have to think of them while I'm in the comfort of my own home, thank you very much, Edward."

Carlisle pretended to be upset, although we all knew, he could never be upset when either Edward or I were happy.

"We have a surprise for you," I chirped in, saving him from any more teasing.

Carlisle grinned at me, his expression coming alive when his eyes fell upon my face, "Does it have anything to do with the drying paint I can smell?"

"It has absolutely everything to do with the – I hope already dried – paint that you can smell."

He chuckled, and placed his bag on the floor with his hat on top, "Then I am all yours, curiosity is burning me again."

I grinned, and Edward turned to make his way up the stairs, with Carlisle and I on his tail.

"Happy Labour Day, by the way," Edward murmured over his shoulder.

Carlisle chuckled softly, "And to you, it seems as though you've both been very busy with something. I thought it had snowed out here when I arrived home this morning."

"Why was that?" I wondered, turning around to look at him.

"The grass in the back garden was covered in white. Did you decide you didn't like the green?" He wondered, as though it was a perfectly reasonable idea to change the colour of the grass.

I giggled, "No, that was Edward, not me."

"Yes," he muttered, "My painting skills leave a lot of room for improvement."

Carlisle beamed up at him, as Edward reached the top of the stairs and then led up to the new hole in the ceiling.

"Ah, more holes!" He smiled as he looked up, "You two really do like destroying the house, don't you?"

Edward nodded, before jumping up to the attic. I looked to Carlisle, who gestured for me to go first, and then jumped up and grabbed the nearest beam to pull myself up.

Carlisle's face was delighted when he saw the new floor, as well as my painting - we shared a private smile at that one.

"We left the walls bare, so you could help us with them," Edward murmured.

Carlisle nodded distractedly, and I fought to suppress a giggle, for his attention had been completely claimed by the machine that took up the bulk of the room. His eyes shone bright with raw delight and excitement, the kind of expression he always wore at the thought of new information.

Edward chuckled; his expression was much the same, "That right there, the marvellous machine, belongs to the private hospital of rural Chequamegon, according to the official documentation that arrived with it in New York."

"An x-ray machine," Carlisle whispered, "How magnificent."

I grinned, seeing my boys this happy was one of the best things in the world.

Carlisle turned to me, "I thought this was your attic? Why are you letting Edward and I use it for our x-rays?"

I nodded, "It is, and I'm sharing it because I can."

Edward chuckled, "Excuse me while I momentarily visit the garage to get the extras I left down there."

Carlisle gave him a nod as he left, then turned his questioning gaze back to me.

"Did you have a good shift?" I asked with raised eyebrows, as I made my way over to the window.

He let out a humourless laugh, and followed me, "Not really."

"Why not?" I wondered as he sat down, his eyes were sad. I wanted to reach out and take him into my arms, and make him feel all right again.

He sighed, "We lost a few patients today, patients I could have saved, but it would have drawn too much attention to us."

"Oh," I lowered my eyes, and gazed out the window.

"It's frustrating. Some days I really don't like myself."

I smiled a small smile, and looked back to him, he was watching Edward walk across the lawn to the garage. I placed my hand atop his, which rested on his knee, "We still love you."

A smile tugged at the side of his lips, "I struggle to see why."

I shrugged; the answer was obvious really, "Because that's what family is for, to love you even when you don't love yourself."

"Where did you learn to give your heart so unconditionally?" He asked, with hints of wonder in his voice.

"My grandparents… they would never be caught dead in the grocer's store."

He laughed, probably wondering how that related to love.

"They swore that all the food was poisoned some how or rather, so they grew every single thing that they ate. If anyone gave them a cake or muffins or biscuits, they would quiz the poor person about where every single ingredient was sourced from before eating it, and if it didn't pass their tests, they'd give it to someone else later on. Some years they'd go without particular food, because it wouldn't grow, but they never seemed to mind. They loved the Earth, and they thought that in return, the Earth would love them back, and most of the time it did.

"They were the reasons I read books, and climbed trees, and they were the ones who taught me what family and love, means.

"They weren't religious, and unlike my parents – who went to church to be seen at church – they spent their Sunday mornings reading books, cooking and being outside, but my grandmother made this one cushion, that sat pride of place on their lounge, and it was embellished with first Corinthians 13 verse four, 'Love is patient, love is kind'… or charity, depending on your bible. You know the one, obviously," he chuckled, I grinned, "Well they loved that verse, and that's how they lived their life. They taught me that family is a place of comfort, of second chances, of apologies and acceptance, of fun, and noise, and laughter, but most of all love. Because love is all of those things, and love is not selfish, it gives and does not take, but proper investment of love will always yield an impressive return. It's a lot like – you remember that book you have downstairs, about the Australian aboriginals?"

He nodded; his eyes were ablaze with curiosity.

I smiled, "Love is a lot like a boomerang. For thousands of years the Aboriginal people of Australia, and even other places throughout the world, have used boomerangs for hunting, because if you throw it properly, it always comes back to you. Love is exactly like that, if you throw it properly, it will always return."

I gave myself a nod at my analogy, I was rather proud, "So that is why I did this," I continued on, "Because seeing you happy makes me happy and Edward's happy because he wants to use the attic too, and we're all happy, and family means happiness, and happiness is love."

He marvelled at me for a moment, "You would have to be the most selfless, caring, giving and loving person I have ever come across in two hundred and eighty one years."

I grinned self consciously and trained my eyes on the floor, then something occurred to me, I looked back up to him excitedly, "Two hundred and eighty years ago, you were one year old! How precious is that?" I nearly squeaked, my hands flying to my cheeks as I imagined him as an adorable little blonde baby with big and curious light blue eyes.

His golden eyes were immensely amused, and his lips were pulled up in a lopsided grin, I heard Edward chuckle from below.

I rubbed my lips together in slight embarrassment, "I apologise, that was a little off topic."

He shook his head, "Not at all, I find your squeaking exceptionally endearing. Do you often … squeak?"

I pursed my lips, "Oh you are deriving far too much fun out of this, Doctor. But I'll humour you," I replied in my best mock-indignant tone, "Yes, I often squeak when I find something adorable."

He raised an eyebrow, "Like your pet mice?"

I shove his shoulder, "Oh you, don't be so… smirky."

He laughed, "Smirky? What's that?"

I heard Edward begin to make his way back to the attic.

"Oh you know very well what I mean," I narrowed my eyes, but his only widened in fake innocence.

"No, please. Would you explain?"

I folded my arms, "No. I will not."

His face fell in an instant, "I hope I haven't offended you, I apolo–"

I grinned, and sighed, then placed my hand on his shoulder, "I know. No need to apologise. No feelings damaged."

He smiled back, "I'm glad."

Edward's head popped up through the hole in the floor, "Are we ready to try the x-ray machine?"

Carlisle grinned, "I've been waiting too long for this, to not be ready now."

They shared the grin of madmen, before Carlisle kissed me on the top of the head and left me swooning by the window.

"Since Rontgen's first medical x-ray was of his wife's hand, should we ask Esme to be our volunteer? Seeing as though she's the only lady in the house, as homage to the great?"

"Uh," Carlisle ran his hand through his hair, "I don't think so…"

Edward sighed and rolled his eyes, "Esme is indestructible."

"Not completely, fire kills vampires," Carlisle argued. I was flattered that he was worried about my safety.

Edward sighed, "Rontgen was braver than you."

Carlisle laughed, "Or perhaps he had no other alternative, whereas we do."

"Fine then, I'll put my arm underneath it, and you work the machine."

Carlisle chuckled, "Here's a piece of fatherly advice for you, Edward. Don't try to use women as test subjects. It won't get you in their good books."

Edward raised his eyes, "So you are the expert on women now, are you?"

Carlisle shrugged, "I'm not the one who wanted to put the lady under the x-ray machine."

He earned himself another eye roll.

The boys got the machine to work very quickly, but were both greatly disappointed when the images produced showed that the rays had not been able to penetrate their impenetrable skin.

"Well that was a waste of money," Edward sighed, as he came to sit by my side.

Carlisle disagreed, "We learned a lot from that, and besides, we could always test it out on some deceased animals."

"Oh, true. I know where some mice live," Edward joked.

"They'd better not be dead," I warned.

The boys laughed, "We wouldn't dream of letting any harm come to them."

I sighed, "Why do I always feel like going to check on them when either of you attempt to reassure me that they're still alive?"

"Because life is so fragile," Edward reminded me, "They'll die soon anyway."

I turned to him, "Thank you, Edward, for your lovely reassurance. If you ever decide to go into medicine, you should ask your father for some advice on bedside manner, because yours is worse than your painting skills, and I have the grass as testament to how awful they are."

Carlisle laughed, and sat down on my other side, "Always here when you need me, son."

Edward rolled his eyes, "In that case, would you care to test my anatomical and physiological knowledge before classes begin tomorrow?"

Carlisle's eyes lit up with delight, "I most definitely would. Where would you like to start?"

Edward stood up and grabbed one of his large textbooks, "There are questions at the end of each of the chapters, so perhaps we could start there?"

"Of course," Carlisle took the book as Edward sat down, "I'll open to a random chapter, just to confuse you. How about that?" He joked.

Edward merely chuckled in return.

"Muscles and bones," Carlisle murmured, to which Edward nodded.

"What are the four different vertebrae in the spinal column, and how many are there of each?"

"Seven cervical, twelve thoracic, five lumbar and five fused sacral."

"Upon what process of what vertebrae is the origin of the levator scapulae muscle?"

"That's not in the book."

"I'm trying to challenge you."

Edward laughed, "The transverse processes of C1 to C4."

"Good," Carlisle grinned.

"What four muscles make up the 'rotator cuff' group?"

"Supraspinatus, infraspinatus, subscapularis, and the teres minor."

"What is an action of the gastrocnemius muscle?"

There was a pause, and then a groan, "I haven't done movements yet."

"Plantar flexion!" I sang quietly.

Two pairs of golden eyes questioned me with surprise dancing in them.

"What?" I looked between the two, quite comically really, "I told you the story of the pestering science teacher, didn't I?"

Carlisle laughed, Edward raised his eyebrows at his father, "Is she correct?"

"Mostly," He smirked.

I sighed, "You said _an_ action, not both actions."

His grin was wide, "I was just testing to see if you knew there were two."

"Yes," I smirked back, "It moves the knee too."

He chuckled.

"Perhaps you should study anatomy, Esme," Edward suggested.

I laughed, "No, thank you. I'll stick to demolishing houses square by square."

My two boys shared a chuckle over that. I wasn't so interested in anatomy and physiology that I would go to study it, however, the subject was rather intriguing which was partly the reason I liked to listen to Carlisle and Edward's discussions on the matter. Mostly though, I liked to see them talk about something they loved.

I'd make a good doctor's wife. _Now let's not get ahead of ourselves…_ A little voice reminded me. I saw Edward smirk.

"Where are the origins and insertions of the gastrocnemius' medial and lateral heads?"

So the boys both fell into a rhythm of their quizzing, occasionally throwing in a question for me, which I answered correctly most of the time, but merely pulled a face when Carlisle asked me the names, origins, and insertions of all of the muscles of the hands. I was only guessing origins and insertions meant the place where the muscle met the bone, and there were far too many muscles in the hand for me to even begin to comprehend. This I realised, when Edward answered the question for me, rattling off things about processes and flexioruses or what ever they may be. Smile and nod, I told myself, and just enjoy the look in their eyes. The sparkle of knowledge, the light of happiness… because happiness is love, and love is the air I breathe.

* * *

_A.N. Sorry for the delay with this chapter, my ever faithful readers. I mostly finished it a few days ago, but let it sit there as inspiration seeped away, so it was somewhat of a chore to write. I hope that does't show. It got to the point that I really just wanted to get this one out of the way. _

_So, just in case it's terribly unclear (yes, I just had to google what an antonym of obvious is - that's how much my brain is refusing to work at the moment) this chapter was touching on how strange it is for Carlisle to have a family to return to after a long day, (I could have written it in Carlisle's POV, but I prefer seeing through Esme's eyes) and how he marvels at the amounts of love that Esme is capable of giving out, especially since the final years of her life seemed to be devoid of love. This is also the chapter where Carlisle develops his theory that Esme has - lets call it - 'the ability' to love passionately. However, writing from Esme's point of view we miss all of this, so it's also a way to show that neither of them really have any idea what the other is thinking, hence some of their uncertainty to admit their feelings. (Of course, Esme _knows, _but she doesn't fully trust that knowledge, after all, she believes that Edward could be misinterpreting Carlisle's thoughts. Often people doubt themselves a lot when it comes to love.)_

_Oh, also, (long author's note!) I LOVE it that you are all enjoying this so much, and that you're so passionate about it, (well that's what I get from your reviews), which is the most incredible thing to me, and I want to thank you so much for all of your kind words. You guys are amazing._

_Much love x_


	27. Little Interruptions (She's Stronger)

_Chapter Twenty-Seven: Little Interruptions (She's Stronger)_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, September 1921_

_Carlisle_

It was a lazy Saturday morning; Edward and I were lounging around in the sitting room, while Esme hummed quietly to herself in the study next door. Edward had found a lovely sunny spot beneath his beloved piano, where he lay on his stomach as the light shone through in beams, which were not direct sunlight, and had no affect on his skin. I lay on the lounge, my feet dangling over the arm, a book propped up on my stomach.

We had righted our positions into proper poses when Esme had walked in the room, but she just laughed and waved her hand, before breezing into the study.

"As long as there's no feet on the table," Edward grinned, "She doesn't mind."

I chuckled, and resumed quizzing him on human anatomy. We had been through all the bones, muscles, arteries, and veins as well as nearly all of the organ systems, and were rapidly heading into murky waters. The more Edward learned, the less I could teach.

"Is the pancreas an endocrine or exocrine organ?"

"Both."

"Why don't torn ligaments heal?"

"Because there is no blood flow to ligaments."

"What is the role of haemoglobin in blood?"

"To carry oxygen."

"What bakery do you think I should purchase the food for the hospital fair from?"

Edward chuckled, "That's not an anatomy question."

"No, but it's important."

I couldn't see him from where I sat, but I was fairly positive he'd be rolling his eyes, "One that's far away, so no one notices."

Esme appeared in the doorway, a small smile playing about her lips. Edward laughed at a thought of hers, so I cocked an eyebrow in question, "Well, I know how to bake, and you have food in the cupboards, to keep up appearances… So I could always try to make something? I doubt it would be easy, with no sense of taste… but it might be fun to try?"

I shrugged, "Sure. I've never cooked before, so I can't really offer any help. I don't think Edward has either."

"Not once," he confirmed.

Esme smirked, "Well, I could always teach you? That might be funny."

I let out a laugh, "I think that would be very funny. I don't mind learning, if you're willing to teach?" I turned to Edward, "Son?"

He sighed dramatically, "Anything for you, mother."

Esme giggled, and gave me a large grin, before darting out of the study doorway and into the hall. I placed the big textbook that had been resting on my stomach, down on the small table in the living room and heaved myself off of the lounge. Edward stayed lying in the muted sunlight not looking as though he'd ever move so, chuckling to myself, I left him there.

Esme was in the kitchen already, opening cupboards and pulling out packets and jars. "Flour, eggs, milk, sugar, baking powder, ooh, jam!" She turned around to beam at me, "We could make a jam roll!"

I nodded, not quite sure what a jam roll was, "Remember, I haven't eaten anything since the seventeenth century, so I have little idea what any of this is about."

She giggled, "And I don't suppose your human memories centred around food?"

I shook my head, "I don't remember eating anything."

She pursed her lips, trying to hold back her laughter, "Well I won't make you try any of this. Now, a mixing bowl…" She opened more cupboards and pulled out utensils that I had never used before, and only owned as a precaution. "I wouldn't suppose you'd have an egg beater, would you?"

I blinked, "Pardon me, a what?"

She giggled, "An egg beater? No matter. We'll have to use a fork. I'll leave you to that." She pulled out a fork from the utensils drawer and placed it next to a small bowl.

She picked up the packet of flour as I moved to stand next to her at the counter, and ever so gently she folded back the top and pulled it open. Immediately her face crumpled up in disgust, "That smells terrible," she nearly choked.

I reached to grab the flour off of her, and she surrendered it willingly, "We don't have to bake anything, I'll pick up some sweets from a bakery. It's all right."

She shook her head stubbornly, "No, no. I'm fine. That stuff smells worse than plaster dust, I wonder if it tastes that bad… I say, Edward!"

The boy appeared at the door almost immediately after his name was called, "Yes, mother?" He gave her a lopsided grin.

"Would you be a dear and tell me if that tastes as bad as the plaster dust you ate a few days ago?" She grinned mischievously, and I fought back a chuckle.

Having never tasted food before, Edward didn't know what he was in for, yet he gingerly dipped the tip of his finger into the packet, and managed to scoop up a little mount of flour. Cringing in apprehension, he placed it on his tongue. His disgusted face was very similar to Esme's, except less endearing. His golden eyes squinted tightly, his mouth contorted in a grimace and his eyebrows knitted together.

"Worse," he choked out, "That's worse than plaster dust, excuse me while I spit it out."

He bolted for the washroom as I turned back to face Esme, who was very nearly succumbing to her hysterical laughter. Seeing her face bested my control, and I doubled over, struggling for breath between each guffaw. She would have cried if she could have, that's how much she laughed.

"You two are terrible," Edward muttered from the other room, "I'm not helping you any more. That was mean."

"At least you'll never complain about deer's blood again," I chuckled.

He shrugged as he walked passed the door, "I probably still will; deer have nothing on mountain lions."

Esme shook her head fondly, and turned to the table, where the utensils and bowls lay.

"Okay," she took a deep breath, ridding herself of the final giggles; "I'll sift the flour and baking soda, while you beat the eggs and sugar. You'll have to go quite fast, because we don't have egg beaters, but don't over whip it."

She put three eggs down in front of me, and pushed two bowls with the fork over my direction, then picked up the bag labelled 'Sugar' before pouring into a measuring cup, and tipping it into the bowl. "It's best to crack the eggs into the smaller bowl first, just in case you don't get a clean break, you won't have to fish the shell out of the mixture."

"Uh…" I murmured uncertainly, still clinging onto the bag of flour, "I've never cracked an egg before."

She looked at me blankly for a millisecond, then giggle slightly, "You are nearly three hundred years old, and you have never cracked an egg before… That is marvellous." She picked one up, "I'll show you."

She gently tapped the egg on the side of the china bowl, her eyes narrowed in concentration, and the egg cracked, but nothing came out. She put her thumb in the little crack and pulled one half of the shell away from the other, letting the liquid inside, fall into the bowl. She smiled down at it, impressed, "That was more difficult than I anticipated, I almost crushed it with all this stupid strength."

I grinned, "Stupid strength, that's a new one."

She looked up at me bashfully, then let her eyes fall back to the eggs, "I can do the other two if you'd like?"

"No, no," I shook my head, "I think I can try."

She grinned, and tipped her egg into the sugar, before placing the bowl in front of me. She reached for the flour; I had almost forgotten I was holding it.

"Thank you," she giggled once she pried it out of my arms.

"You're most welcome." I tried my best to place all my focus on the gentle object in my fingers as I tapped it against the edge of the china bowl, but she was so distracting. She had measured out the flour, baking powder, and salt, and was now sifting it into a bowl ever so gently, and so precisely, she didn't let a single speck of anything fall anywhere outside its intended destination.

She was about to sift it for the second time when I tipped the final egg into the sugar mixture.

"What now?" I wondered.

She smiled tenderly, "Whisk it with the fork until it's very thick."

I raised an eyebrow quizzically, "Whisk?"

She nodded, not laughing at my cluelessness, "Tilt the bowl slightly, and move the fork back and forth in a line, very quickly… for a human, but don't stir it."

I took a deep breath and nodded, regretting I had never invested in eggbeaters.

Once her flour mixture had been sifted for the second time, she prepared a shallow pan to bake the sponge cake in. When my egg and sugar concoction had received her approval, she tipped the flour into the eggs and then scooped up my mixture from the bottom to place atop of hers. She did this until the two mixtures were one. Then she poured it into the pan, and placed it in the oven to cook.

"That should stay in there for between ten and fifteen minutes," she grinned, "Very well done, you're a good baker, Doctor Cullen."

I laughed, "A good egg whisker, you mean?"

She grinned, "Indeed. I'd better rinse this out before it sets," She wandered over to the sink and ran water in the bowl, and then took a whiff of the air, "I never realised how food really smells. I might open some windows, and then do the dishes. Is that all right?"

"Of course," I nodded as Edward entered the room, snickering to himself.

"I don't think we ever have," he murmured. I wondered what question or statement I had missed out on. He turned to me, "Esme was just wondering when was the last time we aired the house out?"

I shrugged, "You're right. We haven't."

She nodded knowingly, "That's why it's so damp. I might air my sheets out too, is that all right? They'll smell nicer then, material goes musty when it's been sitting there for too long."

Edward grinned at me, "This is what we need a woman for; there are so many things about living that we don't know. Should we do our sheets too?"

She smiled timidly, "I can do them if you'd like. It would make your rooms smell nicer."

"They do smell awfully like damp wood, don't they?" I mused.

She laughed, "They do."

We devised a plan to divide and conquer the house, Esme opened all the windows down stairs, while Edward and I tore all of the unused bedding off of our beds we used as props, flinging open our windows in the process.

It was such a strange practise… and so… human. I would have never known to do it before, but as the breeze infiltrated the house, it all began to smell much fresher.

I met Edward in the hallway, "It's strange, we don't use these things, but we still have to care for them… I never considered that they'd need to be cleaned."

I agreed, and then we ran downstairs to meet Esme outside, she was quicker than both of us at all of this, because she knew what she was doing. We were hopeless when it came to maintaining a home, but for her it was second nature.

Once the sheets were flying in the autumn breeze, which was also blowing all through the house, we headed inside to finish the dishes. The day had been filled with experiences so strange, and new, and foreign to me. It was almost nice to be so far out of routine.

Before we started the dishes, Esme announced that the cake was ready, so she removed it from the oven, sprinkled sugar on a cloth, and then placed the sponge atop it. She spread warm jam on the cake and then masterfully rolled it with her nimble little fingers until the middle was a spiral, and it remained wound up.

She put the cake to once side and then turned to the sink, and ran water.

"I'll dry," I grinned, grabbing the tea towel, marvelling at how ordinary my words were. I liked how she brought out the human in me that had been hidden deep for over two hundred years.

She looked up curiously at my proud tone, and laughed a little when her eyes fell upon my gleaming smile.

"Let me guess, you've never done dishes before, either?"

I shook my head, "Not like this. You bring with you a lot of firsts for me."

She giggled, and then tugged at my cloth so she could dry her hands before grabbing the rest of the dishes from the table in the middle of the room.  
I tapped my foot as she scrubbed them in the sink, impatient to start drying. She looked over at me with one beautiful eyebrow cocked, "Am I going to slow for you, Mister?"

I smirked, "It's Doctor, and yes, yes you are." I put the tea towel down and watched her roll her eyes, all the while her smile grew. She shifted ever so slightly to make room for me at the sink, so I rolled up my sleeves and plunged my hands beneath the water, pretending to help, but really only wanted to hold her hands. Oh, I was terrible.

"Sea monsters," I whispered, remembering the night at the waterfalls on her birthday, when I found her delicate fingers.

She giggled, and nudged me with her elbow, "You're not making the dishes go any quicker."

I grinned mischievously, "I never promised I would."

"Oh," she teased lightly, "So this is just an excuse to hold my hand?"

My stomach flipped, could the truth be that she knew of my feelings for her? Was I more transparent than I had ever believed? What did I say? Be honest, or lie? What of I hurt her feelings? Oh, no.

I grinned, hiding my panic, "You caught me."

Her laughter popped like bubbles, "No, actually _you _caught _me._"

I breathed a sigh of relief, that wasn't as intense a moment as it could have been. Oh, sweet Esme. How I want to say _I love you._

Together the dishes were done quicker, and soon I was drying as she put the bowls and utensils away. I was teasing her terribly, by keeping the tea towel out of reach, so she couldn't dry her hands. She was pretending to shoot me unhappy glances as she placed the china away, but I could see the little dimples tugging at her beautiful soft cheeks, so I knew I was in no trouble. I made a show of drying my hands when she put the final bowl away, so she turned around to face me with hands on her hips, "Carlisle Cullen, why do you insist upon refusing me the tea towel?"

I chuckled, "I'm doing no such thing, the tea towel is here if you would like to use it?"

She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes in mock-distrust, then slowly walked towards me. I could feel my cheeky grin spreading across my face. I held the towel out for her, and she took it cautiously, but I didn't let it go. She grinned and tugged on it gently, but I kept my grip. She began to laugh, "Carlisle… Let go!"

I chuckled along with her, "I think this is called tug-of-war."

"I could win, you know, with all of my strength." She murmured, her eyes alight with glee.

"But you'd rip the fabric."

"Uh, no. _We'd _rip the fabric."

I grinned widely, "Yes _we _would." I liked plurals.

She sighed, "Then shall I just let you dry my hands?" She cocked one eyebrow in challenge.

I nodded, keeping my expression as straight as I could, "Yes, I think that is the best solution here."

She laughed and stepped a fraction closer to me, as our hands met in the fabric. So gentle and small they were in my own, I could have fit both of hers in one of mine. My eyes never left hers as I dabbed all the small droplets from her fingers, it was as though our pupils were tethered to one another, and even blinking would be the worst of crimes because there was no excuse for severing that beautiful tie.

It would be so simple, lean a little closer, move a little slower, bend a little lower.

Kiss her.

The strange gravity between us, the magnets, or what ever it was, was drawing our faces closer and closer, I could see she was moving toward me, and I was moving toward her, and the tension was climbing, my breathing was catching in my throat. Was this what I'd been waiting for all along?

And what was that noise in the background?

It was tires on the driveway. They were moving so quickly, rapidly approaching the house.

_Tyres on the driveway?_

_Humans. _Panic froze me on the spot, and Esme froze too. Our faces so close together from our almost kiss, the cold from the absence of her soft breath on my lips was freezing me to the core.

Edward was in the room in an instant, "It's Brinkley and Lola." His tone was blunt, his voice was sharp.

I stared at Edward blankly, straightening my back, my hands automatically finding Esme's arms and rubbing them gently, trying to calm her as she stood there frozen with the tea towel clutched in her hands.

_Why?_ It made no sense.

Edward sighed exasperated, "I think you know why."

So Brinkley was more intent on me courting his daughter than I had first believed.

"Could you make it across the lawn and into the forest before they see you?"

Edward shook his head, "They're too close. We'll have to stay in here, but the open windows will help. It'll be like being outside."

I took a deep breath, feeling nauseous with worry. My eyes flicked to Esme's face, she stared up at me fearfully, and then shook her head, "I can't do this. Can I hide in the attic?"

I raised my hand to caress her cheek, "You could, but it wouldn't help much. The smell would stiff waft up. They'll wonder where you are, too."

"They know about me?"

I nodded, "They think you're my niece."

She looked to Edward, "Esme, just remember what we taught you. Don't breathe, move your shoulders up and down, talk as little as possible, don't show your teeth, act sickly, and move slowly. Remember who you are and _why_ you don't want to kill them. You can do this."

The tea towel that she was wringing in her hands was falling to the floor in shreds. I lifted my other hand up to cradle her other cheek, and lowered my face so we were standing eye to eye, "You are going to be all right. Edward and I will make sure of that. Trust me, Esme. I will not let anything hurt you, and that includes yourself."

She stared back into my eyes for a very short time, her own eyes still wide with fear, but then the brave soul nodded. "All right, all right. I'll do my best. I'll get out if it's too much. Feign sickness, perhaps?"

I nodded, "Yes. That's a good idea."

"Stay if you can, though," Edward murmured, "They'll ask less questions."

Her eyes darted to him, and he nodded, "Yes, you're pale enough to look sick. No, you look fine. We just hunted yesterday, Esme. Believe in yourself as we believe in you."

She took a deep breath and the nodded, I straightened up and moved my hands from her cheek, she looked up at me apprehensively, "You will be fine, Esme." I tucked a curl behind her ear, "And you look beautiful. You always do."

She couldn't help the smile that took away the fear, if only I had known it was the easy before. I would tell her she looked beautiful every single day if she wanted, because it was the truth.

Our conversation had happened quickly, at vampire seed, so the car on the driveway hadn't reached the house just yet, but it was close.

I turned to Edward, "I'll meet them at the door, and you stay in the kitchen with Esme. Come out when you think is a good time. What is their excuse for being here?"

"A package arrived for you this morning, and they were heading out this way."

I took a deep breath, pushing away my panic and worry for Esme, as well as my annoyance at Brinkley's persistence. Stepping back from Esme, I grabbed her hand and squeezed it; she squeezed back, and then she wouldn't let go. I flicked her a smile, then gently kissed her fingers, which loosened and dropped from my grasp. Edward moved over to her, and wrapped her in a hug as the car came to a stop outside the house. For the first time ever, our front door was open, I was so grateful for the airflow that would dilute the smell.

"Big breath," I heard Edward tell Esme, "We only have a few seconds."

The car doors opened as I walked down the hallway, and I watched as Lola helped her father from the drivers seat, she looked up to the house and saw me, and flicked me a big smile. I gave her a small one back.

"Doctor Cullen!" Brinkley exclaimed, I heard Esme's final sharp intake of breath, "I do apologise for the surprise, Lola and I were heading out this way, and a package arrived for you this morning, so we thought we'd drop by and save you a trip into town."

"You really shouldn't have," I said, and I meant it.

"Well," Brinkley laughed, "I did truly want to meet your mysterious niece."

I pursed my lips, wondering if we could keep them outside.

"We can't Carlisle," Edward murmured from the other room, "He's intent upon coming in to have a spot of tea."

I sighed, "Of course, come in."

No one from Ashland had ever visited Edward or I before, the stigma surrounding the house already discouraged many from making their way out to visit, but Edward and I maintained much of an unreachable and unattainable reputation, so nobody much bothered… But you always got the persistent few.

I welcomed Brinkley and Lola through the door as Edward emerged from the kitchen, Esme following closely behind him.

"Have you been baking, Doctor Cullen? I smell sponge!" Brinkley grinned.

"Yes," I replied awkwardly, "Would you like some, with a cup of tea?"

Brinkley began to reply, but his train of thought must have been derailed when he caught his first glimpse of Esme. The people of Ashland were somewhat accustomed to Edward's and my unnatural good looks, but never before had they seen our female counterpart. Lola's eyes were wide as Esme offered up a shy smile, there was a faint glow of hostility somewhere in her surprise, but I couldn't quite place it. Jealousy, perhaps? Most likely.

"Mr. Brinkley, Ms…Lola, this is Anna, Anna Masen," Edward introduced.

Brinkley blinked a few times, "Good… Good… Good morning, Miss Masen… How do you do?"

Panic flared in Esme's eyes for a moment, before she calmed herself and smiled, "I'm quite well today, thank you."

Brinkley and his daughter were incapable of replying for the time being, and Esme's oxygen supply had already begun to diminish, "Edward, would you like to help Anna make some tea and cut some cake for Mr. Brinkley and his daughter?"

Edward nodded, and led Esme back into the kitchen where she would be able to breathe fresh air from the open windows.

I led our guests into the dining room and invited them to sit down, Brinkley handed me the parcels he'd brought with him. They were a gift for Esme; she'd truly appreciate it after this. We exchanged small talk of work, as I listened to Edward and Esme in the kitchen.

"They don't smell as strong as I thought they would," she murmured, "But we'll go for a hunt tonight, won't we?"

Edward must have nodded.

"How are my eyes?" She wondered.

"Two shades darker than normal, but they won't notice, are you sure you're alright? … No, I do. I have complete faith in you… Yes, he does too… No, of course that won't matter… Yes… Yes."

One-sided conversations were very tiresome for eavesdroppers.

I heard Edward chuckle, "Then perhaps you shouldn't be eavesdropping, Carlisle."

_You can talk._

I listened to the kettle boil, and china being lifted, all the while conversing with Brinkley.

"We were going to pop in on our way back, we didn't want to wake you, what with your working night shifts."

"Yes, I was planning on retiring very shortly," I worked on my tired face.

"We do apologise," murmured Lola, "We mustn't stay long."

"Yes, we will finish our tea and be on our way. Don't mind us, Doctor."

Edward and Esme's footsteps slowly made their way to the dining room. The humans looked up when they entered, their faces identical masks of incredulity again. I understood completely, Edward was a handsome boy, even as a human, so his vampire appearance was almost impossible to ignore, and Esme had a distinct elegance about her. The fine clothing she wore made it even more obvious that she was not one to fit in; she most certainly didn't look as though she belonged in a small dining room carrying a tray of tea. Edward placed the tray of cake down on the table in front of our guests, and turned around to take Esme's.

"Sit next to Carlisle," he murmured under her breath. She gave him a small smile, and then took her seat on my left. It felt good to have her near. I held out my hand for her under the table, which she grabbed onto quickly, for dear life.

"Thank you, Mr. Masen," Brinkley nodded, "Miss. Masen."

Esme gave him a small smile. The circles under her eyes had become more pronounced, she could get away with being sickly even better now, but that meant her thirst was worse.

"I've been trying to picture you, Miss. Masen, of course I figured that you'd look a lot like your brother, but I was itching to put a face to the name."

"Oh," Edward interjected before Esme was forced to reply, "Miss. Masen isn't my sister. No, we're cousins. Had we been siblings, I dare say Miss. Masen would have been with us much longer."

"Oh, of course. That makes sense. That's a terrible tragedy to lose two siblings, Doctor Cullen."

Edward answered once again, "Doctor Cullen is actually my maternal uncle, whereas Miss. Masen is my paternal cousin."

Understanding took over all expression upon Brinkley's face, and his daughter's smile fell every so slightly. How entertaining their minds must be for Edward. I trusted the boy implicitly when it came to cover stories, with his gift he was able to know if a person was likely to believe what information was fed to them, so no matter how strange a cover story he came up with, I always went with it. Edward knew best in that area.

Brinkley turned back to Esme, "Where do you originate from, Miss. Masen?"

I hoped she'd choose somewhere she'd never been.

"New York," she smiled weakly.

"Oh, yes. What's it like there? I've heard a lot about it."

"It's busy," she murmured, and then her hand squeezed mine with all of her newborn might, and I knew that she was out of air supply. I squeezed back in encouragement, and to remind her that Edward and I were there should she need us to be.

She took a tiny tentative breath, and I watched her eyes darken minutely, too subtle a change for the humans to notice. Other than that, she remained as she was before.

"This cake is delicious, did you make it, Miss Masen?" Lola asked before she took a sip of tea and burnt her tongue.

"Yes," Esme nodded, smiling more naturally now.

"I can never get a sponge to turn out like this, mine always taste too buttery."

"That one doesn't actually have any butter in it. Just flour, eggs, milk and sugar, as well as jam, of course."

"It's delightful, do you like it father?"

Brinkley nodded and then Lola proceeded to ask a few more questions about how to make the cake. Esme excused herself at one point, to get a glass of water, and I excused myself with her, reminding her that it was time to take her medicine. We walked into the kitchen, where it smelt only faintly of human.

She walked over to the counter nearest the window, and took deep breaths out of it. I came up behind her and enfolded her in my arms. She turned around and took deep breaths of my scent. "You are doing so well," I whispered, rubbing her back.

She nodded; every sensation I felt was intensified with her in my arms. The wind blowing through the open windows gave me tingles; her breathing on my skin gave me chills, her hands on my chest felt electrical, her body in my arms felt thrilling. I thought then that I was a live wire, but I wasn't prepared for the sensation that came when she ran her hands up my chest, over my shoulders and then snaked them around my neck. All of a sudden, we weren't close enough, and the wild vampire I had repressed for such a long time stirred in the back of my mind. There was nothing, right then and there, that I wanted more than I wanted her. I wanted to feel the way her body curved beneath my hands. I wanted to feel the way her body felt pressed up against my chest. Desire coursed through me so potently, it was shameful.

I was broken from my lustful thoughts by a terrible bout of coughing from the dining room. It wasn't human coughing, it was too perfect for that, it was Edward coughing. Esme pulled away, her eyes dark in colour, but light with amusement, "I think that's Edward's signal for us to return."

I sighed, "I agree."

"I feel terrible asking this, but do you think they will leave soon?"

I chuckled, and once again tucked away the persistent little tendril of hair that liked to fall in front of her ear, and said, "I hope so."

We made our way back to the small dining room, and I caught a glare from Edward as I sat down. Our guests stayed for forty minutes, forty minutes of intense torture for Esme, but forty minutes that proved to me just how strong she was.

We bode Brinkley and his daughter farewell from the porch steps, and headed inside once they were gone.

"Will they come back?" I wondered to Edward.

He shook his head and smirked a little, "Their visit didn't quite turn out the way Brinkley wanted it to."

I wasn't entirely sure what he meant, but shrugged it off, because I had just caught sight of Esme's expression.

She was elated.

I chuckled, "Congratulations."

"I did it," she whispered.

I opened my arms slightly, and almost magnetically she found her way into them. "You did," I nodded.

"I did," disbelief was evident in her eyes.

There was silence for a moment, and then she started laughing, so I picked her up and I spun her around, as we laughed together and I gazed in her eyes.

I could have lived a thousand lives and not been as sure as I was right then about that look ablaze in her eyes, because that was the light of pure, untamed, wild, _love_. Could that be the reason that Edward denied Esme and I were related to Brinkley and his daughter? Was that the reason they wouldn't come back, because Brinkley's daughter had no hope with Esme around? Were we _that_ plainly obvious? And if that were true, did it mean that she too could see through my façade? I saw Edward smirk, then give a small nod, and I wasn't quite sure how to feel. She knew that I loved her, yet she never refused any of my teasings, nor any of my almost kisses. That didn't mean… That couldn't mean? Could it be as true as the truest fact that Esme Anne Platt, tree climber extraordinaire, possessor of the most caring, loving and selfless soul, actually loved me back?

I swung her round the room with newfound vigour then, because I wasn't just celebrating her incredible achievement… I was celebrating mine too.

I had finally figured out the truth.

"Oh, by the way," I pulled back from Esme, "The parcel they delivered is for you."

"It is?" Her tone was surprised.

I nodded, trying to prevent the smirk from finding a place on my face, "I thought you might like to read the end of 'The Adventure of the Speckled Band' yourself."

She stared at me blankly for a moment, before exclaiming, "You got me Sherlock Holmes? Carlisle! Thank you!"

And then she flung herself back into my arms, and with her she brought those electric sparks, and I felt the victory of a flaming heart, so I picked her back up and spun her around.

* * *

_A Few Days Later_

_Deep Inside a Forest, Mississippi, September 1921_

She drained the deer as much as she could, still not fully satisfied. Humans tasted so much better. She wondered how they did it. Esme and Edward had struggled of course, and she couldn't quite comprehend the extent of Esme's guilt, undoubtedly, killing people wasn't nice, but two and a half weeks away from Carlisle! No! If she had have been there, she might not have held her tongue quite as well as Edward had.

She sighed, sniffing the air for a trace of any other animal, when suddenly a feeling she knew all too well came over her. She stood rigid in the middle of the dark forest, with blood running down her chin, and her pointy black hair ruffled, her eyes glazed over almost as though she was seeing something far away. Then she grinned from ear to ear, happier than she'd been in a very long time.

"It's getting closer," she whispered to the empty field, "No, not closer… I think it's time…"

* * *

_A.N. Thank you all again… (I'm feeling mischievous about this.)_


	28. We Can Easily Be Friends

_Chapter Twenty-Eight: We Can Easily Be Friends_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, September 1921_

_Esme_

Saturday was a good day. The visitors from town taught me that my control was better than I thought, but Saturday night was torturous because Carlisle had to go to work. This, of course was usual, but saying goodbye was harder that day, because of how close we'd been. Neither of us wanted to let go, although neither of us admitted why.

Sunday night was even harder to let him go. The day was spent on the couch, our backs pressed to either end, our feet meeting in the middle as he read Sherlock Holmes to me. I wasn't secretive with the way I watched him, I didn't steal glances, instead, improperly, I stared… But he was so beautiful; there was no way I could not. There were almost no words that carried enough weight or meaning to ever do him justice. His wavy golden hair, a few shades lighter than his golden eyes, fell in his face, and every so often he paused his narration to blow it out of the way. Those lips that blew it, that smiled, that talked, they were plump and full, and the teeth behind them were perfectly white and straight. His jaw line was definitively masculine, and his high cheekbones made him even more beautiful. Like many men, he had long eyelashes that would make any woman jealous, and I remembered the way they made my heart flutter when they fluttered, while I was human. His eyes were big and shallow set, but not out of proportion like mine. His face was always set in a thoughtful expression, gentle, and serene, but sometimes he lost himself to the words, as though he was somewhere else, in a different world. I realised that the books must bring back his memories of London, and I wondered if that made him happy or sad. His hands were large, like his neck was thick, but his build wasn't imposing or intimidating, it merely looked big to me for I was small. He was truly my definition of perfect. All of that was just icing on the cake, for what really stood out was his kind heart.

He discovered he could make me laugh with glee by putting on different voices as he read the dialogue between different characters, so with a large grin, he continued to bring the characters to life. Some times he'd stop half way through a story, and look up at me curiously, "What do you think will happen?" He'd wonder.

Sometimes I'd have a fair idea, but other times I wouldn't. He always looked at me the same way when I answered, with awe.

So Sunday night was even worse.

When he came home Monday, he was different. His eyes were distant and sad. I managed to coax him out of it with only a smile, but sometimes throughout the day I'd catch him staring out the window with a strange look in his eyes.

Edward arrived home that afternoon, took one look at Carlisle, and laughed.

"Oh, don't act as though the world is ending, Carlisle. It's just a dance."

Carlisle groaned, "You'd say something much different if it were you being forced to attend."

"You're not being forced."

Carlisle arched an eyebrow from his chair behind his desk, "They altered my shift just so I could attend. I work form an hour before midnight, to an hour before midday. I've never worked those hours before."

Edward pursed his lips, "Would you like me to stay home tomorrow?"

I gazed up at him from behind my book, "If that's for me, you know I'll be fine here by myself. If anyone comes knocking I'll hide in the attic and hold my breath until they're gone. Darling, I don't want you to miss out on anything," I told Edward tenderly, "You're enjoying your classes so much."

Edward shrugged, "That may be so," he came and sat next to me on the chaise, "But you're more important."

I grinned, "Keep talking like that and I'll start calling you sweet."

He gave me a lopsided grin, "Well you already call me darling, so it's not much different. However, I will start protesting if _you _start calling me sweet or darling, Carlisle."

The handsome doctor chuckled, "I wouldn't dream of it."

Edward glared at Carlisle's smirk; I deduced from the look they exchanged that Carlisle added an unspoken term of endearment.

"He did," Edward confirmed in a dark mutter.

I fought the giggle that rose in my throat.

"So what time does the dance start?" Edward wondered, as he picked up my other Conan Doyle book.

"Seven," Carlisle sighed.

Edward smirked, "And have you prepared a suit for the occasion?"

"You'd really ought to wipe that smile off of your face."

"Or what? You'll lecture me as though we were back in the seventeenth century? You know, I'd never take you seriously if you started talking like Shakespeare again."

Carlisle's eyes narrowed, "You're not aiding in the improvement of my mood, Edward."

Edward sighed, "I walked passed the hospital on my way home today."

"Why?" Carlisle sounded displeased.

Edward's smirk returned, "Curiosity."

Carlisle opened his mouth to retort, but I bet him to it. "Nothing good ever comes to those who pry, Edward. An excess of curiosity is just as vulgar as an excess of disinterest."

Edward sighed again, "All right, all right. I'll play nice." He turned back to Carlisle, and paused for a moment, picking his words carefully. "The staff are excited that you're attending tonight."

Carlisle pursed his lips, "And I suppose that if I fake an illness people will start talking?"

"Worse," Edward chuckled darkly, "People will start _thinking_."

Carlisle groaned, and his head fell in his hands. My heart throbbed at the sight. I closed my book and stood up, "All right, Edward. That's enough. No more torturing your father. Let's do something else to take our minds off of tonight, shall we? Does anyone need to hunt?"

I got two head shakes, one still buried in his hands.

"Then perhaps you'd like to debate? Or we could play a game? Maybe paint the attic? Or do some more x-rays?"

Edward smirked, "We could give Carlisle some last minute dance lessons?"

I heard Carlisle's teeth grind together in frustration, so Edward's smirk grew.

"Edward Antony Masen!" My hands found my hips, my toe tapped upon the ground, I heard Carlisle lift his head out of his hands from behind me, "Enough is enough! I have already asked you to stop once, and I don't want to have to ask you again. If I hear another word uttered from your mouth about this silly little dance tonight you will be in big trouble, mister. Do you understand?"

Frustration ebbed through my every vein, and Edward looked up to me with slight fright therein his eyes, "Yes, mother." He murmured.

"Now, apologise to your father."

Edward cleared his throat, "I do apologise, Carlisle."

The doctor went to speak, but I held up a hand to make him wait.

_Come now, Edward, you can do better than that. Give him a proper apology._

"I won't mention the dance in a teasing manner again, because I know you're not looking forward to it, and nor would I be if I were you. I apologise for being insensitive."

I gave him a nod, and lowered my hand, ending Carlisle's silence. When he spoke, I could hear his grin, "You're forgiven."

Edward nodded, a small smile returning to his lips, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"That's better," I lowered my hands from my hips, "Now I won't make the two of you hug," I smirked, Carlisle chuckled, and Edward rolled his eyes, "So let's choose something else to do."

Edward sighed and nodded again, "But in all seriousness, Esme, you and I should throw our own little party tonight. I know how much you love dancing. I'll get the record player down, we'll have fun."

I agreed with a smile, I did love dancing. Then we three went off to finish painting the attic. I didn't miss Carlisle's teasing Edward when he thought I wasn't paying attention, but I didn't chide him for it because he was happy, and his happiness made my heart fly. A part of me also liked seeing him act so young, it proved to me that no matter when a man was born, be it the seventeenth century or the twentieth, and no matter how old he grew to be, two-hundred-and-eighty-one, or just twenty-three, there would always be a part of him that never grew past five years old. Edward flicked a grin my way at that.

We had almost painted the whole of the room when half passed five arrived, and we were all packed up by six o'clock.

As Carlisle went off to bathe – something I couldn't think about because people never bathed with their clothes on, and I wasn't prepared to let Edward listen in on my improper thoughts – Edward gathered the record player and a tall stack of records, and brought them downstairs where he set it all up. He let me choose the music as he moved all the furniture out of the way, creating an impromptu dance floor.

"You should have worn your earrings," he pointed out at one point, I laughed a little self-consciously at that.

"Edward, I think that those earrings demand a little more of a fancy outfit than this," I gestured to my plain skirt and long cardigan, "Or shoes, at least."

His amused eyes fell down to my nearly bare feet, that were only clothed in silk stockings, and then he shrugged, "You look nice, I don't see why you can't wear them. You could wear them every single day and they wouldn't look an inch out of place."

I felt like blushing, "You're just being sweet, darling."

He chuckled, "And I have learned from my mistake."

I laughed with him as he placed the needle down on the record, and with a warm crackle, music filled the room.

"May I have this dance, ma'am?" He extended his hand and did a little bow.

"Indeed you may," I grinned.

He pulled me into a relaxed position, and we danced around the room laughing at one another. It was moments like these that Edward was a different person than I knew him to be, it was almost as though for brief moments he was at peace in the midst of chaos, and that the chaos had been forgotten, traded for a fleeting moment of true happiness. He smiled a very small smile at that thought, and gave me a half nod, so I stopped thinking about it, I'd let him enjoy the moment.

We danced around the room while I listened to Carlisle's footprints up stairs, and tried my very best not to pay attention to the wondrous sound of fabric sliding over skin, because the mental pictures I'm ashamed to admit formed in my head were torture for Edward.

He gave me a wry smile, and said, "You're too right."

"I'm sorry," I sighed.

When we both heard the doctor's footprints coming down the stairs, Edward murmured, "We are demonstrating, Carlisle, how much fun one can have from dancing."

The blonde doctor finished walking down the stairs and moved to stand in the doorway, wearing a wry smile that I barely noticed. If I had thought him handsome before, it was only because I hadn't seen him like this until that very moment. The air in my lungs escaped, draining them of all gas and deflating them as much as possible… and then perhaps a little more.

His blonde hair was combed back out of his face in a deliciously beautiful way, and he wore white tie better than anyone I had ever seen wear white tie before. I thought he wore his usual day suits well, I thought he looked unbearably handsome when he'd take off his coat and lounge around the house in just a shirt and vest. He took my breath away in his swimsuit, with his shirt and his short trousers, but none of that prepared me for how Carlisle Cullen looked in white tie. It was as good as when he wore his lab coat… Actually it may have been better, because of one tiny little detail…his bow tie was crooked_. _

_Crooked._

That meant one thing; I would have to straighten it. A voice in a dim corner of my mind that I rarely ever listened to – the intelligent voice, I called it – informed me that probability said it was exceptionally unlikely that his tie would be crooked by accident, which meant that he had left it that way purposefully. And why? Because _he _wanted _me_ to straighten it. If Edward's gift could be deafened by any loud noise, it would have been then, by my mind, which violently screamed in celebration of my little assumption.

Edward and I parted when we saw Carlisle, he to change the record and I to fawn over the dashing man in the doorway.

"I never realised that it was quite so formal," Edward murmured, "White tie, that's a little over the top for such a small town. I'm surprised anyone owns that kind of dress here."

Carlisle sighed, "Yes, unfortunately so. There are some very important people coming, or something like that."

"Unfortunately?" I raised an eyebrow as I reached him, "I think you look very handsome… but your tie is a little crooked," I murmured as I reached up to straighten it.

I heard his breathing catch in his throat, as his eyes locked onto my face. Edward chuckled in the background, too low for Carlisle to hear.

He grinned a little at my complement, despite it being an enormous understatement, and murmured a soft, "Thank you."

I smiled shyly, and brushed the invisible dust off of his strong shoulders when I was done, "There, perfect." I smiled.

He chuckled, "I wouldn't say that, but thank you none-the-less."

I shook my head fondly and moved back to the center of the room where Edward waited for me.

"It looks as though you two will be having more fun than I tonight," Carlisle murmured as Edward began to swing me around, his voice held a note of longing.

Edward laughed, "Most probably, and we both wish you could stay in our little party instead of going to theirs, but I think you'll find it interesting. You'll break a lot of poor women's hearts tonight, if I'm guessing right."

I fought a growl that rose from my chest as I pondered all the women who would surely dance with Carlisle tonight. I had never been a jealous person in the entirety of my human life, but I could recognise the feeling as it ate at my heart. I wasn't quite sure what I'd do if I ever met one of the women who endeavoured to court Carlisle, of course I had no claim to him, but I couldn't help the irrational… wait… a lonely penny dropped somewhere in my mind, causing a clanging sound that echoed in the numbness. I _had _met one of these women, hadn't I?

I looked to Edward, he smirked a little, and I knew I was right.

Lola.

The jealousy intensified. I fed her, I gave her my cake, and I gave her my tea, and I welcomed her into my home, and she wanted to steal _my _Carlisle.

_Esme_. A part of my mind hissed at me, _Calm down._

I realised that I had been gripping into Edward terribly hard as I let the inner animal control my thoughts.

_Can I blame it on the newborn stage? _I wondered to him, he smiled slightly and gave me a nod. _I am sorry._

He squeezed my hand; I took that as an acceptance.

Carlisle cleared his throat, we both looked to him, aware only then, that he was unclear of our silent discussion, and thankfully so.

"Why is that, exactly?"

Edward looked to me for an answer; it was obvious he did not feel comfortable complementing Carlisle's looks. Truthfully, I felt awfully bashful as I said it, but often the truth demands to be spoken, it does not like going long without seeing the light of day, "Perhaps I was being a little too reserved when I said you looked handsome…" I murmured.

Edward chuckled, and gave a little nod.

Carlisle breathed in awkwardly and moved to run his fingers through his hair as he always did when he was feeling self-conscious.

"Nah, uh, uh!" I waved my hands at him, and he froze, "You'll ruin your hair."

Realisation flickered upon his face, and he nodded, letting out a little laugh, "Of course."

Edward checked his new wristwatch – an accessory he prized because of it's affiliations with the wardrobe of the soldiers in the Great War – and gave Carlisle a small smirk, "It's twenty-passed-six."

Carlisle sighed, "Yes, I should get going."

My heart dropped a little at the thought of him leaving, and the slight jealousy flared up again at the thought of all the other women who would be looking at him tonight, but the intelligent part of my brain reminded me that it didn't matter who was looking at him, but rather who _he _was looking at, and I couldn't quite trick myself into believing that I couldn't see longing in his eyes. More proof that indeed he wished that I could be on his arm at the party… But that wasn't possible for more than one reason; after all, I _was_ supposed to be dead.

I wandered over to him, and put my hands on his upper arms, I offered up a timid smile, butterflies churning my stomach, "Have fun tonight," I murmured, and reached up on my tiptoes to plant a chaste kiss on his cheek, and he bent down ever so slightly to let me.

His eyes were a fire of happiness, and he nodded wearing another wry smile, "I'll try my very best."

All of a sudden the moment was very intimate, and the familiar heat of excitement filled my veins. Carlisle's eyes looked down at me with such intensity, I thought my own might burst into flames.

It was then that one of the most heavenly sounds reverberated from behind my back, and Carlisle looked up, startled. I whirled around to see Edward, waltzing with himself around the room, singing to the music. _Singing._

_Edward could sing._

"Edward!" I exclaimed in surprise.

He looked up all-too-innocently, "Yes?"

"You never mentioned that you could sing!"

He stared back at me blankly, "Yes, well everybody can sing."

"But some people better than others, and you're one of those people."

He smiled, and bowed his head a little, "Thank you."

Carlisle chuckled placed his hands on my arms where mine had been on his, then rubbed up and down, "I should be off," he placed a kiss on the top of my head, and let go, disappearing down the hall, "You two have a nice night!"

I almost chased after him, but Edward's hand found mine, "He _has _to go, Esme."

There was something in his eyes that told me I needed to trust him, so I nodded a little and let him pull me back into the dance.

When the tires had disappeared down the road, and Carlisle was out of earshot, Edward gave me a small smile, "I'm sorry I couldn't let you kiss him… That would have been far too awkward for me, and he never would have gone to the party."

I raised a teasing eyebrow, "Oh so you can see the future as well as read minds now?"

He grinned, "No – thank the Lord – but I know Carlisle. He would have stayed, and people would have really started to gossip about the mysterious niece that he's in love with."

I gave him a look saturated with my confusion.

He sighed, "Brinkley and Lola have alluded to the niece Carlisle lives with and isn't related to, in conversation with others. It's slowly spreading through the town. That's why I popped by the hospital tonight, I wanted to check if any of them knew, I stayed for a while, but it wasn't in their minds, so I don't think they do. There will be some people at the dance tonight who have heard the gossip, and if Carlisle doesn't turn up they'll begin to wonder why, but if he does turn up, and if he turns up _without _you, I'm sure they'll dismiss it. Brinkley doesn't have the best reputation when it comes to reliability of information."

I nodded in understanding, "And it would be bad if they did find out about me?"

Edward gave a half-hearted shrug, "I'm not so sure. It would be bad if they found out before the two of you actually admitted everything to each other, but I don't quite think they should know about you just yet. Some of the children you used to teach would recognise you if they ever saw you."

I cocked an eyebrow, "They remember me?"

He gave me a small, sad smile, "Of course they do. They absolutely _loved _you, Esme."

I looked away, sadness ebbing into my system.

"I'm sorry," Edward murmured, "I didn't intend to upset you."

I shook my head, and gave him a tiny smile, "It's all right. Children are so sweet."

Suddenly I remembered a very hazy moment from my human life. I was laying in bed when I felt my baby kicking, curious, I threw back the sheets and pulled up my delicate night gown, and right there jutting out of my tummy was a tiny little hand. My heart swelled with adoration and love as I gingerly reached out to touch the small hand, which pushed harder at the contact. Hot tears welled in my eyes, as sobs caught in my throat. It would all be worth it soon, I thought to myself, _it would be worth it._

The memory faded, and my eyes fell upon Edward's small smile, "That was beautiful, Esme."

I shook my head, embarrassed that he saw me in my nightclothes, "I'm sorry."

He chuckled slightly, "Don't worry, I'm used to it already. Don't be embarrassed."

I laughed bashfully, _No matter what you say, I'll still be embarrassed._

He shrugged, "When it's that memory, I don't actually mind. Little hands are rather cute."

I grinned widely; I'd never pegged Edward as one who would find babies or children _cute. _I was rather glad he didn't mind it though, because that same memory played in my head for the rest of the night. Although it was beautiful, it was also torturous. A constant reminder of the son that I would never hold again.

Edward reluctantly left me in the morning at ten, but I was feeling better by the time the daylight arrived. He was too sweet to me, that boy. His heart was so good, even though he hid deeply inside himself, he couldn't stop it from shining sometimes. The problem with Edward, however, was that his mood was quick to change from happy to sullen, or revert back to the almost happy state he seemed to exist in. When he laughed, he never laughed whole-heartedly and fully. When he smiled, it never truly lit up his eyes. When he spoke with passion, the passion was more often born of anger or irritation rather than love for something. In fact, the only thing I had ever seen him do with a passion was play his beloved piano. Perhaps it was his age; he was still so young.

The absence of Edward and Carlisle was nice for a change, but the house felt quiet and empty without them. I wondered what to do with my free time before Carlisle came home. I didn't much feel like painting, I wasn't relaxed enough to read, and there was nothing for me to finish in the attic, at least not by myself.

I wandered upstairs, and ended up taking a nice hot bath. As per usual, the hot water failed to retain its heat for too long. We really needed to install one of those contraptions that I read about in Edward's technology magazine, so the hot water falls from the ceiling. _That_ wouldn't get cold. They had them in hospitals I read, showers, that's what they called them, surely Carlisle could find one and figure out how it works, then install one here. After all, I had no doubt that the house wasn't wired with electricity when the boys purchased it… Nobody would install wires this far out, surely. In fact, I was even surprised such an old house so far out of town even had a bathroom… Perhaps that was also Edward and Carlisle's doing. After all, Edward was raised with the very best…

Shrugging it off, I pulled myself out of the cold water, it didn't matter whoever it was that installed the plumbing and electricity, I was very glad that they did. Technology wasn't my forte, but I did appreciate modern convenience.

I wrapped the towel tightly around me, and dashed into my bedroom. I knew the house was empty, but I wasn't about to dawdle down the hallway without any clothes on.

I threw my old clothes on the bed, and shut the door, then wandered over to the dresser to pick out new clothes. I wanted to wear something that Carlisle would like. Slipping into my most comfortable chemise, I pulled open the drawers of dresses, stifling a giggle at their being not a single sight of a corset. The boys couldn't have cared less what I wore under my dresses, so I was rebelling against corsets. I would have rebelled against them my entire life if my mother had let me, after all, they did make it so hard to climb trees. From what I could tell of the fashion magazines that Carlisle brought me home every month, they were slowly becoming less and less popular. Good riddance. Giggling to myself at my quiet rebellion, I picked out one of my light blue dresses, because Carlisle liked blue. This particular one had a boat neck, three quarter sleeves, and fell halfway down my shins. I liked it, it made me feel pretty. Grabbing my box of hairpins, I dashed back to the bathroom, wondering what to do with my hair. I knew for a fact that he'd like it best down, but I couldn't bring myself to do that, so I fashioned it into the nicest bun that I could. Now, hair had always been something I was good at, and mother was proud of that. In the distance, I could hear tyres on the road. I ran to the wall clock, to check the time. Ten minutes passed eleven. It was him. I dashed back to the bathroom, and as the tyres hit the gravel driveway, I gazed in the floor length mirror to check my appearance one last time. Then with a nod (particularly at my shoe-less feet) I deposited my hairpins in my room.

I wondered where I should be when he arrived home. In the study, like usual? In the hallway, waiting? In my bedroom, acting blasé? Yes, definitely the latter. I gathered my clothes from the bed as I listened to him park the car and shut he garage door behind him, and I folded them neatly before I put them away. Carlisle opened the door quietly, and I waited for him to call out his usual 'Good morning!' but he didn't. His feet were slow and heavy across the floor, into the living room, through to the study. He dropped his bag on his desk, and fell into the seat behind it. My heart plummeted to the floor; he must have had a terrible night. He'd never had a terrible shift before. I was at a loss for things to do. Should I go down? Would he want to see me? I always made him feel better, but perhaps not today? I stood frozen to the spot near my dresser, wondering what to do, until I decided to do what I'd normally do if I were not so nervous about seeing him. I wasn't quite sure why I _was_ so nervous, oh how I wished Edward were here to laugh at me.

Calming myself, I took measured steps to the door, and then down the hall, and down the stairs, into the sitting room, and then the study. He sat behind his desk, in all of his perfection, wearing his normal clothes.

"Good morning," I murmured cautiously, his eyes seemed far away.

He turned to me for a moment, gave a small smile that faded in an instant, and murmured, "Good morning."

"How was your night?" I wondered gently.

He exhaled loudly, his hand balling into a fist on his desk, "It was fine, thank you."

Worry coursed through me, with a slight hint of apprehension, yet I felt no true fear. He was angry, I could tell, and I never thought I'd see him that way, but I wanted to, didn't I? I wanted to know just how safe I was here with him.

"Carlisle, are you all right?" I pressed, even though every fibre of my body protested against it.

"Yes, I'm fine, thank you!" His voice was loud and forceful, I almost flinched, but he took a deep breath and looked back to me then, his eyes filled with deep concern and regret, "Esme, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to speak to you in such a way. Please forgive me."

I was baffled at how he calmed himself so quickly; I shook my head, "There's nothing to forgive."

His eyes were almost pleading and yet they were cautious too, "Yes. There is. There is a great deal to forgive. I should not have raised my voice at you, and I do wish you would let me apologise for that."

And then all of a sudden it hit me.

This really was him angry… and he was completely in control.

Some part of me, a small part, but a loud part, had wished that he would really be angry when he was mad. It wished that he'd yell, and his face would be stern, because then he'd be more reachable. But he was just gentle. So I stood there feeling so small, and dirty, and tainted in front of his perfection, and for the very first time since my suicide, I truly felt like I had fallen from grace.

Oh how quickly everything could change, and turn on it's head.

The heat in my body was rising; I was finding it hard to breathe. Something was crushing my heart, and drowning me again. I was filled with an all-consuming urge to run out of the room, out of his presence, away from him. Some subconscious part of my mind knew that being away from him wouldn't work, because although he was the cause of my particular sickness, he was also the cure.

But the truth was that I wasn't good enough for him, nor was I brave enough to try to be.

"I forgive you," I smiled in the way I had perfected as a human, and then I felt guilty for comparing Carlisle's heaven to Charles' hell.

He smiled at me more genuinely then, which made it all so much worse, and the heat grew hotter, and the waters were deeper, and the crushing was stronger, and the drowning was more real. I needed to get out of that room, and away from him because I couldn't ever be more than his friend. I was not good enough. It didn't matter that I loved him, and he loved me. He needed someone worthy, and I was not worthy at all.

"I have some washing to sort through," I murmured with another fake smile, as I began to back out of that room.

He nodded, his eyes turned sad again, and I wondered if I looked as crazed as I felt.

Breathing was harder out of that room, it was as though the air had become thicker and the walls were pressing in, and the ceiling wasn't as high up as it used to be. Perhaps it was just the sitting room's effect on me, as though every single improvement I had ever made was coming undone, being unwound as though it was the easiest thing. Perhaps I didn't try hard enough.

I needed to get out, but upstairs was the only place I could go. I dashed out into the hall glad to be rid of the oppressive sitting room, only to find that the hallway was worse. I had to ignore it, I had to move forward. But when I took that very first step toward the staircase, something happened, something that classified as rather extraordinary to me. A little voice in the back of my head that once told me to climb trees, and smuggle books, reared its wild head for the very first time in nearly ten years.

_Take that step._ It challenged. _You know you don't want to, so take it._

Something was holding me back, like there was a magnet that didn't want me climbing those steps, but I needed to. I wasn't good for him, even though I wished, more than anything else, for him to chase after me. I lifted my foot. Placed it on the small landing of the first stair. Carlisle and I could be friends, I had resolved, and we _would _be.

_If you can be friends, _the voice mocked me, _finish taking that step._

I stood for a moment, and fought the magnets; my foot had turned to wood beneath me. But I could be strong. I _would_ be strong. So I took that very first step.

.

.

.

And the voice spoke again…

* * *

_A.N. Hi there favourite people! Once again thank you for reading/reviewing/following/favouriting and such... I really do love reading your reviews._

_Right so, the next chapter will pick right up where this one left off... Esme and her fight with the stairs... Or herself... You choose. And just a little note so I don't get anyone's hopes up about Alice (Yes that was her we saw last chapter! Yay! Alice!) I always believed that she would be watching the Cullens, kind of like a reality TV show in her head (Keeping Up With The Cullens this Tuesday night on Alice TV!) so that was my way of telling you guys that something big is about to happen... and no it's not Edward's christmas present, Esme hasn't thought of that one just yet... although it will be big... but I will leave you to hypothesise about what 'big event' is happening... keeping in mind this chapter number (...28...) _

_So we might see bits of Alice, but because this is a canon story, I'm not going to have her meet the Cullens before she's got Jasper, so not until the 50s. We might see her again, watching her family-to-be... no promises there... I'd probably forget to do it if I promised..._

_I hope you enjoyed! And I hope that the next chapter won't stay stuck in my head for too long and will relay itself on the computer screen soon enough because it's an exciting battle... Esme vs The Stairs. _

_(Oh, and P.S. Carlisle had been very subtly angry for a few chapters now. Keywords: Very subtly. That was purposeful.) _

_ENJOY!_


	29. There is No Way We Can be Friends

_Chapter Twenty-Nine: There is No Way We Can be Friends_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, September 1921_

_Esme_

There were twelve steps on the staircase in our Ashland home, and I knew them all intimately. I stood on each one for only a fraction of a second, as my vampire mind worked as fast as it could, with panic burning a fiery path through my veins.

The first step was made of dark brown wood, like all the rest, and in the very corner near the wall a pile of dust had gathered. The motes jumped in fear whenever I moved, the apprehension they felt was fully justified, and frankly, to be expected, after all, I was a monster. Step one and its dust, gave me a reason to move to step two, but the little voice in my head, which was beginning to irritate me, challenged it.

I was not a healthy choice for Carlisle Cullen, not in the state I was currently in, and I was frozen that way for eternity, wasn't I?

All I was ever fated to bring him was disappointment, and he'd grow to regret loving me. It was a selfish thing to do, to give him false hope that I could be all he wanted, and I would be selfless, because loving someone meant putting their happiness before your own.

_Or throwing both of your happiness away, _my rebellious voice echoed in my head, _so why are you doing this?_

Deep breath. Ignore. Next step.

Step two was wooden as well, but there was no dust hiding from me in the corner, perhaps it had left before I'd arrived. Wise choice, dust motes, _wise choice. _The handrail was bumpy, and it felt strange beneath my granite skin. Its inconsistencies betrayed its difference to the rest of the smooth wood. It was not worthy of its perfect place.

Just like step one, step two urged me forward, by reminding me that_ I_ was not worthy of him, as the bumps in the rail removed it's right for such a prime position. Little old broken me was not worthy of something so perfect and compassionate as him. I could not take advantage of that caring heart. I could not be its new disease to cure, because the only cure was riddance, and riddance would pain it. I would not bring more pain to him. I was a rusty old woman that someone else had chucked out, and he didn't deserve to love rubbish.

_But that's exactly the kind of thing he would love, _the annoying voice chirped, _such a kind heart would never care about _what_ it fell for, only that it _did_._

Deep breath. Ignore. Next step.

Step three had missing varnish, it was peeling something terrible. I must order new varnish from town, and restore it to beauty, I thought. This is no time for distractions; I chided myself, see you're too daft for him, too unladylike. What proper wife would varnish a staircase? What proper wife would do a man's job? He needed a woman who was his equal, elegant and intelligent, who was not filled with crazy ideas and an over active imagination. Sudden chagrin caused me to grimace as I remembered the silly words I had said to him of a wayward girl's childish dreams. It was extremely embarrassing. He needed a woman who would understand all the Latin words he said when he talked about his shifts, not one who'd grin, and have to fight to comprehend it, and he needed a woman who everyone loved, and wasn't peacefully protesting the corset. What a silly thing to do.

Oh, and God! I was jealous of that woman. My breath was shaky when I drew it. Sobs threatened to arrive again and send me into hysteria.

_But he loves _you_ just how you are,_ the little voice said, _not who everyone else wants you to be. He's even said that, remember?_

Deep breath. Ignore. Next step.

Step four collected the dust motes from step three and two, and clung onto them for dear life. Trying to save them from me, perhaps. I imagined them having faces filled with terror and fought the urge to comfort them. I wasn't all that scary because being scary would entail taking a risk, and I was incapable of doing such a thing. Telling Carlisle my feelings was the riskiest thing I could think of, because I could throw away our friendship, I could ruin everything we had. Even if he admitted his feelings, it didn't truly mean that I couldn't muck it all up afterward. Because I could. After all, I was Esme Evenson, so naturally that meant that I would.

_Well, Esme Evenson,_ the childish voice tried – and failed – to sound formal, _I'm Esme Platt, and I do risk well… I'd bet Esme Cullen would thank you for it afterwards._

If Edward were here, he'd call me insane.

Deep breath. Ignore. Next step.

Step five was crowned in perfection; there was nothing interesting there… aside from the symbolism of the opposite of me. Step five was what Carlisle needed, and I was stuck being step three. Scratched, and peeling, broken, not healing, I was sad and falling apart. He needed strength, and a pillar of support. He needed unparallel love, and … perfection. Like him. He was the foundation of the house in this family, and I wanted to be the bones, but weak bones are brittle and the welcome in more challenges and struggle than anything else, so I'd be the downfall of our figurative house.

_Perhaps he doesn't want perfect, or easy, _the little voice sang, _perhaps he wants _you_._

Deep breath. Ignore. Next step.

Step six was old and creaky, the most adorable of all. I liked broken down things… I wondered if Carlisle did too. I'd never been brave enough to ask him. In fact there were not many things I knew intimately about the blonde doctor. I knew his story, his favourite colour, and his favourite time of day. I knew he was scared of losing his family, and he loved books more than almost anything else. I knew he ran his hands through his hair when he was nervous, and stared at the sky when he was sad. I knew that his version of angry was a fist all balled up, and a show of his incredible self control. But I wondered, did he always pause halfway up the staircase, just to hear the creak of something in need? Did he tell himself he'd fix it and then always forget, and run out of time before his next shift? I'd never be brave enough to ask, because I wasn't a brave person. I kept my questions close to my chest and never let them slip out with my breath.

_I think it's pretty brave, _the little voice commented, _Daft, yes, but brave also, that you're walking away from him. Your bravery is remarkable, but channelled in all the wrong directions, taking you with it as a blind man follows a melodic voice._

Deep breath. Ignore. Next step.

Step seven was just like step two, nothing special, but in my momentary appraisal, my little voice took the chance to speak first.

_Does it mean anything that he loves you, and that you're fighting to make yourself a healthy choice for him?_

I sighed; no of course it didn't, because I'd always be broken in the end. I was just shards of a person covered in scars. I moved to take the next step, but something held me back, because though I was broken and I'd fallen to pieces, somehow I was still standing. After all, it was only today that I had felt broken, and worthless and dirty and graceless, every other day I fought to keep my past behind me, and to see things for how they truly were. I was not in Ohio anymore, being poked and squeezed into places I didn't belong. I was in Ashland, and I was loved. So what if I was merely experiencing a newborn mood phase and it wasn't honestly how I felt? How could I decide truly, what he did and didn't want? It was selfish to take away his choice.

No. Deep breath. Ignore. Next step.

Step eight looked almost normal, aside from the dust motes that hid in its many cracks and divots, poor thing.

_Now you're getting the hang of it, _the bold voice told me,_ who are you to decide who he wants? Isn't that up to him?_

The thing about worthlessness was that the feeling itself decides where it belongs and positions it's poison in places it never fits in, yet will always bring about its desired result, and one of those places was inside of my heart. I was not worthless nor was I unworthy. Why did I aspire to bring about the exact opposite result of what I knew we both desired? It was silly, it was unneeded, it was…

No. Deep breath. Ignore. Next step.

Step nine was marked with black scuffmarks, and I knew the blame for that lay on Edward' shoulders.

_Edward. _The little voice enthused, _Now Edward loves you too. See your boys, they're just like you, they have a thing for fixer-uppers._

And I was fixer-upper? Yes, I suppose I was. Carlisle's compassion accounted for his liking of broken things and Edward did show signs of possessing a golden heart like his father's. That would explain why they'd never desire plain perfection.

What _was_ perfection anyway? There was no straight-line definition, it wasn't a factual thing, but instead an opinion. So how could I know, not myself being him, what he defined as perfect? There was that distinct possibility that _I_ could be his own definition… And perhaps he liked women who were willing to take a peaceful stand against the awful corsets that made tree climbing difficult… Perhaps he liked _me_ for that.

No. Deep breath. Ignore. Next step.

Step ten had a chip out of the tread nosing, which I used to find amusing, but not today.

_What you're doing now is risky_, the voice told me, _which risk would you rather choose?_

Risks always arrived hand in hand with regret, but perhaps the choice we needed to make was not what risk we were prepared to take, but rather what regret we could stomach for the rest of our lives? I'd built walls around everything, especially my heart, to protect me from hurt and pain, but in the process it had worn and grown old, because the walls pushed out both bad and good things. To let him in I would have to open them up, and be prepared for pain and suffering. Was I willing to take that risk? No. But I was even less willing of regretting losing him to someone else because the whispers of my heart were only heard by the walls that echoed them around. Truly the biggest risk is the chance that you don't take.

No. Deep breath. Ignore. Next step.

Step eleven had a dent to the right, near the wall, and I wasn't quite sure how it got there.

_You think that you're not good enough for him, _the voice was low and clear, _yet you crossed all of the numbers off of your silly little list…_

I hid the main reason behind the silly little list I made. The main reason being I was broken, just pieces of a person scattered everywhere. I didn't have much to offer, I only had what was left of me. Yet I knew that held more worth to his compassionate heart, because it held more worth to his God. If I mentioned it ever, I knew he would tell me the story in his Bible of the widow who gave her only pennies away. What book was it in? Mark. Mark 12:42. That's what mattered more to him.

It's true, I would give him everything, every single part of me and I had no doubt inside of my body that he would take it and turn it to gold.

It wasn't not as though there would never be another moment in my existence when I wouldn't be okay, but I knew then that when there was, I wouldn't let the brokenness define me. I couldn't be perfect, but I could be perfectly me.

No. Deep breath. Ignore.

Wait.

Those dust motes from the very first step… what if they weren't jumping away from me? What if I _wasn't _the monster? What if they were dancing to the sound of my footsteps?

_Ah,_ smiled the bold little voice, _now we're beginning to understand the importance of perception._ _Our world is never one-dimensional; there is never only one way to look at things._

Up until then I didn't realize that bravery wasn't always loud and all consuming, but it could be subtle too. Like trying something new when you weren't entirely convinced of it, or trusting someone to be telling the truth, when you were used to being lied to. Even loving a new family when the family you once loved didn't love how you loved.

That was brave.

I didn't even realize that. But _he_ did. _He_ saw the truth.

I hadn't been looking in a dirty mirror at myself, no, I hadn't been looking at all. I _was _brave, only in a quiet way. Courage is not a lion who is fearless through it all, but courage is a baby bird learning how to fly, because jumping out of the tree for the very first time nearly always ends in kissing the ground.

Step twelve.

_What's scarier? Telling him how you feel or regretting not doing it at all?_

That was the crux of it. Truly.

I lifted my foot, and took the step… backwards, and down, then I flew out of the hall, through the sitting room and into the study.

"Air," I said breathlessly.

He was still sitting in his chair behind his desk, his head had fallen into his hands, but he raised it looking at me exceptionally perplexed, "Pardon me?"

"I need air. Would you care to go for a walk with me?"

He stared at me for a minute, a minute that was long enough to realize his presence brought with it some calm for the storm inside of me, and numbed the pain that ripped at my heart. Then he nodded, with an infinitesimal smile, and slowly got out of his seat.

I left the room with him on my tail, feeling much too awkward to be by his side in the small areas of the house. I took the back door, out through the kitchen, as I usually did, while I thought about the comfort we felt between us on Saturday and Sunday, and how it was all gone now.

"Your hair looks absolutely lovely today," he murmured from behind me as I walked through the back door, I could feel his eyes examining the curls at the back of my head.

I flicked him a small smile, my heart regaining a miniscule fraction of its usual glee, "Thank you."

He nodded as he sped up his pace down the steps, to walk next to me. It was better in the fresh air, the drowning feeling was rapidly leaving my body, although I wasn't entirely sure if that was natures doing, or purely because of the presence of the man by my side. His blonde hair danced in the gentle autumn breeze that blew the green grass, and a few green leaves that had prematurely fallen from the trees. Autumn hadn't yet begun to take its toll on the foliage of the small forest in our property, for they were clinging onto their colour as stubbornly as I was clinging onto my fears.

I headed toward the wood quietly, aware of his curious and worried eyes upon my face. I watched as he put his hands in his pocket, a gesture I knew signalled either peace, or extreme discomfort. It didn't take Einstein to realize that it was the latter, in this case.

"Esme," his voice was almost a whisper, a whisper coated in pain. I looked up to him worriedly, not wanting him to be upset, but my expression only pained his eyes more.

"Oh, Esme," he hung his head, and then shook it, wisps of his hair falling everywhere, "I promised you I wouldn't lose my temper and now I've gone and done it."

I couldn't hold back the half-crazed laugh that escaped my lips, but my hand automatically flew up to my mouth as though that would stop it.

His head jerked up to reveal his eyes that were deeply confused.

I offered him a sincere smile, and although it was small, it was truly genuine, "You are the least angry, angry person I have ever come across."

"Yet, I still have anger in me," his tone was wounded, disappointed, helpless.

"Everybody has anger in them. What matters not is that, but what we do with it."

He sighed, and nodded, "Tell me, in all honesty, have I frightened you?"

I shook my head, "You've done no such thing."

His brows knitted together, "But I can see that you are upset, and I am left wondering why?"

In a moment of fleeting courage, I stared at him straight in the eyes, "I could say the same thing to you."

He looked away slowly; his face was ashen and ashamed.

Against my better judgement, I pestered him; "You've been upset for a while now. Since the day Edward and I showed you the attic. Labour day."

He didn't reply, so I let my statement hang in the air, and looked around at the beautiful trees as we reached the edges of the forest. I had always liked trees. I liked the tick trunks, how they were so strong and supportive, as well as the small branches, whose size fooled one into believing meant weakness, but they held so many leaves they could not be so.

I followed the trunks up to the sky, the greys and whites of the overcast day shone through the thin canopy of leaves, leaving their colour to be grey infused greens. The colours were so dull and boring, I wished they were vibrant like golds and whites of the man who had taken a very deep breath beside me.

"Edward was telling you of the nurses at the hospital, Mable and Ruby?" He wondered, his sad eyes meeting mine.

I nodded, "Yes, he was."

He pursed his lips, squeezing them into a hard line that conveyed his distress acutely and did painful things to the dead heart of mine, "I've become quite an inconvenience for the hospital because of them."

I raised an eyebrow, "I'm not entirely sure I follow… Is this something _they've_ done or _you've_ done?"

His mouth pulled up into a half smile for a fraction of a millisecond, before falling once again back into his sombre mask, "They find it very hard to concentrate on their work with me around."

Understanding hit me suddenly, and as though it should have been obvious all along, "Of course," I murmured, "I understand."

"One of the nurses in particular has been focussing much more on me than she has on her work, which potentially puts patients at risk."

I swallowed hard, "And that was worse after the dance?"

He nodded, his eyes falling to the ground once again.

"It's not your fault," I whispered, "The hospital should have seen that coming before anything happened."

"She almost killed a man, Esme, because she was too busy flustered over _me_."

I reached out to touch his arm, but he flinched, so I pulled back, my heart dropping a little at that, "Carlisle," I murmured, he looked back up at me with more sorrow in his eyes than before, almost as though he regretted his flinch, perhaps it pained him as much as it pained me.

"_Almost." _I murmured, "She _almost _killed a man. But didn't. A close call, I'll admit, but if she's smart enough to be a nurse, she's smart enough not to do it again."

"I'm not so convinced." He shook his head, but I could tell that his eyes wanted to believe me, "Humans do strange things when it comes to our kind."

"Then perhaps you could request to be transferred to a different part of the hospital?" I wasn't entirely sure how big Ashland hospital was, I had only been there twice. Once to give birth and the other time to…

I didn't want to remember that. Not today. Not after everything I'd already managed to overcome. I had more than enough emotional issues without having to relive _that _moment of my life.

He sighed, and nodded slightly, "You're right. That is an option. I had been to caught up in it to think logically." He smiled wider that time, more sincere, my words appeared to have helped slightly, but sadness still played in his eyes. "Thank you."

I nodded, offering up a small smile, trying to distract myself from the memory that was insisting on being remembered, "I don't blame them really. I remember the nurse in Columbus got very offended when I made you laugh, so I assume you get it every where you go."

He gave a small chuckle, "Unfortunately. I'm surprised you remembered her; she wasn't as bad as Ruby is, at least she gave me the correct anaesthetic for your leg. Although the staring eyes did get on my nerves."

The memory of my baby dying was becoming more and more persistent; I scrunched up my face for a moment, trying to push it away, only paying little attention to our conversation, "You're a very hard person to ignore, Carlisle. Take it from someone who knows." My voice came out harder than I had intended.

He looked down at me worriedly, timidly extending a hand out in comfort, but too shy to let it reach me. He probably thought I was offended by his flinching before, which of course I was, a little, but not enough for me to reject the addictive feeling of his hands on me. "Esme, please tell me what is wrong so I can right it."

I shook my head, "There's nothing you can do. I'm just remembering a great many things."

"Would it make it easier to talk about them?" He asked gently.

I shook my head vehemently, "No. That would make it worse." A sob rattled my chest as the picture of my lifeless baby boy pushed into my mind.

"Esme," he whispered, stopping, forgetting his apprehension, and pulling me against his chest, "I'm so sorry."

"Don't apologise," I nearly growled, my arms clutching onto his sides, "None of this is your fault. I'm only experiencing an exorbitant lapse in my control over my newborn emotions today."

"Was that because we left you alone? We won't do it again if that is what you would like?"

"No," I whispered into his shoulder, "I had a nice morning by myself."

I could feel pain and rejection deflate his chest as he took my words with the wrong meaning; he thought he upset me by coming home.

I pulled away and looked up to his face, but he wouldn't meet my eyes.

Swallowing my pride I spoke again, about a matter that weighed heavily on my heart, "I had an embarrassing memory resurface last night while I was dancing with Edward."

His eyes then darted to mine, worry replacing pain, evident in his caring gold irises.

"It was of my son, before he was born. His little hand," another sob wracked my body, "Was pressing out, and I could see it, and I could touch it, and I miss him."

The sobs broke free then, as he caressed my face, and it felt oddly liberating.

Somehow the tears that would never fall from my eyes again, washed away all of the dirt upon my skin, and I felt the curls pinned to my head, and the dress that swayed against my legs, and I felt pretty again. The way he looked at me made me feel pretty again. It made me feel my worth. His eyes were so gentle as they caressed my face like his palm did, and they sparkled, looking at me as though I was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

The gentle breeze blew through the trees and the quiet rustling sound took away the chaos in my mind, and all that remained was peace. I'd never before known what peace felt like, but peace felt right.

Soon my breathing steadied, and the sobs subsided. I stepped back a little, still remaining in his embrace and fought the urge to apologise for my outburst, I would no longer be sorry that I felt pain. His eyes still looked down at me with deep care and worry.

"You know," I murmured, my low voice fitting into the scene perfectly, "That is probably the only happy human memory that I can think of right now, which doesn't center around you."

Surprised flickered into his eyes, bright as the sun on a clear say, but soon it took the hand of happiness and danced to the song of my un-beating heart.

Quiet confidence that didn't surprise me, rose back up inside of my chest, "In fact, you were the very first thing that I remembered."

He smiled gently as we pulled away and began walking again, our bodies closer than before, his eyes still mixing sadness, worry and awe, "When I was carrying you home from the hospital, your stirred and looked up at me, and then you said my name. I couldn't believe that you still remembered me, I never understood why," he laughed.

I felt my lips tugging up into a small smile, "Well, for one thing, I don't recall ever meeting another vampire in my life."

He sighed, "So it was all just… this?" His hand gestured to his face.

I shook my head, "No. I couldn't care less what you looked like. You could have whiskers or a second nose, I wouldn't mind. You listened to me. You made me feel like the cause I was fighting for wasn't such a daft little dream of a wayward child, instead, it was a good idea. To fight for the right to be treated like a person… not just a woman."

"We're all people," he murmured.

"I look forward to the day that the world can see that," I murmured back, raising my eyes once again to the canopy of leaves up above, marvelling at the colours. It was then that I was rocked by an epiphany. The leaves, which had been so dull and infused with muted grey before, were now vibrant and vivid and lively, but truly the colour had not changed, I had.

I had begun to let down walls. I had cried and not apologised. I had offered advice. I had shown him comfort, and love, I hadn't backed down when he wanted me to but needed me not to. I had been strong. Strong like the vivid greens that hung above me. Or perhaps they were strong now because I was. It wasn't the stairs, or my bold sixteen-year old voice that I needed to show me my strength – although I'll admit they aided in it – but rather it was me. This me. The me that I was now.

I stopped walking, and Carlisle did too. His face a faint mask of surprise, although I could still see the slight hint of sadness in his eyes.

"The thing is," I murmured continuing our previous conversation, "If you're lucky, you'll have a moment in your life when you meet someone and you realize in an instant that up until then, you had seen the world in black and white, and they are colour. But just because you've found them doesn't mean that they will stay. The colour, however, never leaves; it stays in muted tones, always there to remind you of the one that you let go.  
"Then sometimes, if you're really lucky, that person will come back, and it's like you've got a second chance, so after all that time you spent day dreaming of them, wishing with all you had that they'd be there, why would you let them go again? Why would you trade that vibrant colour, for wishing they were there?  
"I remembered, not long ago, something that Charles always used to say to me… Before he left for the war. I'd be standing right in front of him, and he'd look me in the eye then say 'Esme, where are you? Who are you with?' It annoyed him like nothing else that sometimes my mind was so far away; with someone I loved more than I could have ever loved him.  
"The thing is, I was always the kind of person who forgets right away, or I'd never forget at all, Carlisle. And I never forgot you at all, the colours began to fade, but they never, ever, ever went away."

His face was blank for a moment, and then he blinked. Nervousness fluttered into my stomach as I took in the full weight of his silence. In so many words, I had just told him I loved him… And I barely even realised I was saying it out loud. I stood still for a moment, almost in shock, waiting for the panic to arrive, but instead of panic, the nervousness intensified minutely. Not followed by regret, but rather, relief. Yet he still hadn't spoken, so in the nervousness that I was sure would overcome me, I began to babble, "When I was walking up the stairs earlier, I realised a lot of things. Like, the third stair needs new varnish and the sixth stair has a creak, the ninth one has scuffmarks, the tenth has got a chip. Then the poor eleventh one is blemished with a dent I've no idea how it got. More important than that though, I realised that you rarely regret what you _do_, but almost always regret what you _don't_, and I'm far more afraid of what could've been, than what will really happen. Then I realised just now, literally this instant while I was rambling, that I don't want to wait for myself to be ready anymore, because waiting is poison to the mind – even though it seems I've already lost mine. Waiting is how you throw away your dreams, and I know it's awfully improper to be so bold and forward but I'm not scared of being _me_ anymore, and I'm not scared of telling you the truth…I never forgot about you because I was… well I _thought_ I was in love with you, but I wasn't because I didn't truly know you and now I do know you, and I know the truth. I'm certain of it. As certain as I am of one and one always being two, the sky behind the clouds always being blue, and the world always turning to give us night and day. That is how certain… I love you." The last three words came out, almost as a frightened whimper. I had never before said anything quite so true.

I was proud of myself though, my eyes had never strayed from his the entire time I poured my heart out to him, and that was brave.

I could babble no longer, I had run out of things to say.

His eyes were frantic in the overcast light as though unsure whether or not to feel elated or to continue being pained. The franticness was complimented perfectly by the light breeze that blew his hair wildly in his face and he far was too shocked to blow it back into place. The silence was ear splitting, as I gazed up at him for what seemed like an eternity in itself. When he was composed enough to speak his voice came out in a garbled rush, "I've been waiting so long to tell you, but I've never known what to say. I was feeling to tortured, so confused, I didn't want you to think I changed you for this reason. I didn't want you to feel obliged. I… I… I'm in love with you and I've not known what to do about it…" he kept on talking but my focus had been averted.

Five words had never been so welcome to my ears, had never lifted my heart in the way that his did then, and that gave me the extra courage to do what I had wanted to do for such a long time.

Time moved in slow motion, more so now than it ever had before, despite my world being measured in fractions of seconds instead of minutes and hours, it moved so much slower when I was on my tiptoes, staring directly at his lips. If Edward were to come home and find us, or if the heavens were to open and rain were to fall down, even if humans were to drive up our driveway, I still wouldn't stop, because we _needed_ this. There was not a rogue vampire that wanted to kill us, nor Carlisle's God coming down from Heaven to confirm his theories of souls, nor the world being destroyed by wild meteors and ending in a flaming ball of nothingness that could stop me now. I had experienced bravery from lust, the short-lived thing that ends in _what have I done?_ But I had never – up until that very moment – fully understood, nor experienced bravery from _love_. It was so much stronger and more potent, and it was not to be short lived, but rather, eternal.

So there I stood rising slowly onto my tiptoes, too short to reach his face, as my hand reached up to his heavenly neck, his body knew what to do, leaning down slightly to meet me halfway. His talking slowed, and his breathing did too, his eyes darkened several shades, and his hand – slower than anything – began to make its way to my face. His gentle breath was intoxicating and warm as our faces drew nearer, reflexively my eyes fluttered closed, and his gentle surgeon's hand hadn't quite reached my face by the time my lips gently found his. A great relief flooded through me.

It felt _right_, like nothing ever had before. The relief soon gave way to electricity. My body was a live wire, sparking at my ears and toes, and everything made sense.

I had never understood nor believed them when they said, "You'll know," because I had never know, until then.

This was right. Carlisle and I were right. It was as though every single moment we had experienced in our lives had been leading up to this – the hospital in Ohio, my awful marriage, the cliff. As though vampirism had been created for the sole purpose of our lives meeting at the right time, and as we stood there in that forest, our bodies mere inches apart, fate had finally found a place to join our two hearts.

His hand finally reached my cheek, and it was feather light as it came to rest there. His other hand found my waist, and then curved around to sit atop the small of my back. Wherever his hands moved, fire followed – a painfully addictive and intoxicating fire. I wondered briefly if my own hands, which rested on his neck and at his side, had the very same affect on him as it did me. Carlisle smelt even more intoxicating up close, but that was nothing like the beautiful taste of his lips on mine. The thought was enough to stop a beating human heart, so it made mine explode with joy. His lips were the gentlest things as they whispered the secrets of the world to mine, and just by the way that he kissed me, I could feel exactly how much he loved me, because I felt the exact opposite of the worthless woman I was earlier.

Infinity and eternity began to have reason as we stood there in the forest, blissfully unaware of our surroundings, and time passed completely unnoticed by either of us. Yet, we could not stay there like that forever, so we ended it just as slowly and as sweetly as we had begun. My eyes fluttered open at the same moment as his, and they found each other as though they had always been designed to do so. I knew my question was plainly obvious in my golden orbs, _had I just done the right thing?_

In that moment, I was the little bird who took a leap of faith out of the tree, and his words would decide if I would fall or if I would fly. But he didn't say anything, no, he did something better. He smiled gently, his eyes alive with perfect happiness. His large hands cupped both of my cheeks and he gently brought my lips back to his, saying all he needed to say with that kiss.

For a kiss speaks every word that language has never managed.

* * *

_A.N. There we go! I did promise you you'd have this before chapter 30, didn't I? As always, your reviews are greatly appreciated! What did you think? Was it what you envisioned? Better? Worse? Nothing at all like what you wanted? I'm looking forward to reading your reviews about this one!_

_Thank you very much again, all of you._

_Much love x_


	30. I Have Loved You

_Chapter Thirty: I Have Loved You_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, September 1921_

_Carlisle_

The converging of two points bound for one another is an exceptional thing, yet more often then not, as on linear graphs, these two lines meet, and then leave one another, never again finding a point where they should cross. Our story was not like that. We met, I left, and we met again. Our story would end in forever. There was no doubting that now. Not now that her lips were pressed against mine, her small frame safe in my arms. I understood completely how mates could never seem to be apart from one another, for technically she wasn't my mate, yet I was already addicted to the electricity that flowed through my veins when my skin touched her body.

She looked dubious when she pulled away, as though unsure she had done the right thing, and I wasn't quite sure how to tell her I loved her even more for opening up to me. All I knew was that my lips were stinging from the lack of contact, I needed to join them with hers again, and I hoped that would convey my message. Cradling her small face inside both of my hands this time, I joined our lips once more. Oh, how much better her scent was when it was tasted.

What had started as a terrible day was now the best day of my existence to date. Having lived two hundred and eighty years without the love of a woman, it was even more special now that I had it. It was a strange thing for me to ponder, that she would love me for who I was; yet it seemed simple and obvious that I would love her.

Sudden curiosity arrived with full force and pushed me into pulling away.

I rested my forehead against hers, my breathing was slightly ragged and a little unsteady, and hers was much the same, "You knew," I murmured, grinning.

"Hmm?" One of her perfect eyebrows was raised.

"You knew that I was in love with you, didn't you?"

She giggled, amusement dancing in her liquid eyes, "Maybe," she sang coyly.

I sighed, "For how long?"

"Oh don't be upset," she murmured, reaching up to stroke my cheek, "I've loved you for longer," her thumb stroked my cheekbone, an exquisite feeling I had never experienced before, "I have known since the last day of July, when we went to the lake, the day that I slipped up."

Her eyes fell down in shame, but I managed to coax them back to me, "I was truly that obvious?"

She grinned again, my heart was elated at the sight, "No, you weren't. Truly. I was reading far too deeply into everything, and then merely convincing myself that I was seeing it all wrong. I got so worked up that I asked poor Edward if I truly was reading the signs wrong, when you were off checking for humans. He didn't answer at first, but I convinced myself that I was, but out the corner of my eye I saw Edward give the tiniest shake of his head. I think he was tiring of my thoughts," she bit her lip, worried that I would be upset at our son's revelation, but truly I was not.

I chuckled lightly, "Then I am very glad he did tell you that, for I've not the confidence to tell you, so I fear we would have been dancing around each other for a long time yet."

She giggled with me, her hands reaching up to encircle my neck, my own wrapping around her waist, our foreheads still pressed together. Our embrace was perhaps, not the most proper, yet it didn't bother me in the least. "I think – if I'd not said anything – it would have happened by accident anyway, like all of those times it nearly did before. The forest on the fourth, my birthday, the church… the kitchen."

"And here I was thinking that it was just me." It felt liberating to share what I hadn't realised had been weighing heavily on my heart.

She shook her head, her gleaming teeth reflecting the outdoor light, "Not just you," she whispered, "Me too."

I marvelled for a moment, as our lips searched for one another once more, how easy it was to be intimate with her. It was strange to think, having been alone for so long, that something like this could be natural, my body could still know what to do.

She pulled away suddenly, after a short time, and her head spun to her right, "It's Edward," she murmured, hearing a sound that I could not. Her brow furrowed in confusion, or perhaps concern. She quickly looked back up to me, "I think something is wrong with the car."

I raised an eyebrow, "How do you mean?"

"It's making a very peculiar noise… almost spluttering."

It was then that I heard it, a definite spluttering noise: the sound of an unhealthy motor.

I sighed, "I do love Edward," I murmured, moving my head back down to hers, "But I can't say that I love his timing."

I captured her lips in mine once again as she giggled.

When the wheels neared the house, I pulled away, and placed a chaste kiss on her forehead, "We'd better go," I murmured softly, "And see what he's done to the poor car."

"I didn't do anything to the poor car!" Edward's voice called out, "The poor car did it to itself!"

I chuckled, "Somehow I find that hard to swallow, Edward."

I reached for Esme's hand as we turned to leave, but she cuddled to my side instead, so I wrapped my arm around her shoulder, and burrowed my nose in her hair. Her floral-fruity smell was potent and heavenly. The woods and musks made her smell homely, yet the passionfruit and mandarin leaves added an exotic edge to it all. It was a perfect contrast, like so many things about her.

"Esme," Edward's voice came from the garage, "I brought you home a surprise."

Her eyes lit up with intrigue when he spoke, but soon narrowed into suspicion, "What exactly is it?"

Edward chuckled darkly in the distance, "None of those things."

I cocked an eyebrow at Esme, and she smiled bashfully back up at me, "It's nothing as expensive as the earrings, nor confusing as new technology. It's not road kill either, nor has it got anything to do with my mice."

I chuckled, "Heaven forbid we touch the mice."

She pursed her lips, but her eyes gave away her amusement and utter delight, "If either of you even think about touching my mice, you'll be locked out of the house for a week."

Edward chuckled as he rounded the corner of the garage, coming into sight, "And how will you enforce that? We can break locks."

She raised an eyebrow as though the answer was painfully obvious, "I'll be patrolling, and I'll tell you this Edward, there isn't much worse than an angry mother."

His lips pulled up into a lopsided grin, "I agree with you on that one, so don't worry, your mice remain unharmed."

She snuggled closer to my side in contentment, "Good."

I rubbed her arm in affection as Edward turned back around and led us into the garage, where he revealed the car was brimming with bags and boxes.

"Your new wardrobe has arrived, ma'am."

Esme's face lit up with excitement as she dragged me forward, I may have been slightly alarmed at the amount of clothes she had purchased – for I had very few places to store them, and a new bureau would take days to arrive – if I had not been alarmed by the amount of smoke billowing from the beloved car.

"Yes," Edward looked away awkwardly, "I'm not exactly sure what happened, it just began to splutter on the way home." He shot a pointed look at Esme, "Perhaps it was all the extra weight. Are you planning on throwing a parade of some sort? I didn't pick you as that much of a fashion lover."

She giggled, "No silly, it's winter clothes. They take up more room than summer dresses. I didn't order that many at all."

I looked at her quizzically, a look Edward mirrored perfectly. Her eyes darted between the two of us, looking both a mused and somewhat puzzled, "Whatever is the matter?" She gave a self-conscious laugh.

I smiled down at her, rubbing her arm once again, "Darling, you do realize you've no need for winter clothes?"

Her confusion flickered with brief momentary delight I caught at my calling her _darling, _"Well of course I do," she murmured slowly, "It will soon be winter."

"Yes, but we don't get cold," I reminded her gently, trying my best not to sound patronising.

There was a beat of dead silence, before she grinned widely up at me, "Yes I know _that,_ I'm not quite that daft. All I meant was that it would look rather odd to be wearing a summer dress in the snow. We do _try _to look normal, don't we? Suppose you both are not quite as frightful as you think you are, and we get more visitors like Mr. Brinkley and Miss. Lola, it would not look very good if I'd nothing warm to wear, now, would it?"

I returned her wide grin as I agreed, "I'd truly not considered that. I do hope we don't get more visitors."

Edward chuckled, "I agree."

Esme shrugged a little, in our embrace, "I don't know so much. I thought they were quite nice… Until, of course, I realised _why_ they were at our house."

I smirked, had she been jealous? How endearing. Edward snickered and gazed fondly at his mother. I guessed that if she were human, she'd be blushing like a beetroot.

"All right!" She exclaimed happily, changing the subject of our conversation and pulling away from me slightly, "It looks as though you two have a…" she gazed dubiously at the smoke, "Problem to sort out here, and I have new clothes to wear, so I'll let you two be boys and I'll be in the house being a girl." She turned her gaze back up to my face, stood on her tiptoes and pressed her delicate lips to my cheek, my head swum in a daze of complete and utter elation. She dashed to the car and begun pulling out all of the boxes, "Do you need some help?" I wondered.

She shook her head, then placed a box on top of it, "No thank you, I'll manage."

She hung the handles of the dainty little bags on both of her arms, placed another box atop her head, and carried four in her arms. She flicked me a toothy grin as she walked passed, evidently proud of her balance. I'm completely sure that my expression was the exact same as hers, because she gave wings to my long dead heart.

I saw Edward roll his eyes out the corner of mine, so I flicked him a smirky look.

"Smirky?" He grinned, "Really, Carlisle? Smirky?" he turned away shaking his head, "You're turning into Esme."

I heard her delighted giggle come from the lawn, and all I could think was about the love I held for her in my heart.

"Any ideas on what happened?" Edward wondered, standing over the engine.

Snapping myself back into reality, I dashed to his side. We had purchased the Cadillac in Milwaukee, deciding that it would be exceptionally peculiar for the new doctor and his nephew to appear in town having only stepped out of the forest. I had let Edward choose the car; it was his pride and joy. I remembered seeing his face when I suggested we purchase one, up until that moment, I'd never seen him happy. He liked the Cadillac so much that I'd be bold enough to say he loved it. He cared for the car almost as much as he loved his piano, and other musical devices. It was important to me that I help him fix it, for we had bonded over the car greatly, almost everything I came across fascinated me in one respect or another, so despite my love of automobiles not being quite so pronounced as his, I found it easy to create common ground.

The engines were complicated, and intricately designed. We poked around for a while, trying to find the source of the smoke. Cars were much more difficult to navigate than humans, but decidedly less breakable.

"It looks like a leaky valve cover," Edward murmured, pointing to the valves.

I nodded, "It does, that shouldn't be too difficult to fix."

We gathered all our tools and began to work in silence, my thoughts quickly drifting to the woman inside our little wooden house.

I tried not to relive our earlier moments, as much as I wanted to, because I wanted to spare Edward all of the finer details. As brilliant as my self-control was when it came to blood, and as good as I was getting at guarding my thoughts from Edward, my self-control over my thoughts of Esme was utterly terrible. I was far too elated, and quite frankly, amazed, to push back the memories. The very best memories I had.

I heard Edward chuckle, "I suppose I should say congratulations, but I really just want to say thank you."

I raised an eyebrow, although he was concentrating far too hard on his work to see, "Thank you?"

He nodded, I caught a glimpse of his cheek tugging up in a smile, "I'll no longer have to listen to you both pining for each other."

I let out an awkward laugh, "Pining for each other?"

"She's been in love with you from the moment you met in Columbus… Well, not as in love with you as she is now, but you certainly made quite the impression on her."

I found it hard to believe the words I was hearing, "Truly, I thought she was overstating things. I must admit I was surprised when I figured it out."

He rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"You're not… surprised?" I wondered.

"Surprised?" His eyebrows nearly reached his hairline, "It's no surprise to me Carlisle, I can read her mind, remember? Besides, if ever you could see the history of a heart, the history of hers would be surprisingly short, it started the day she met you, and it will remain only touched by you for the rest of eternity. After all this time, I can't think of anyone more deserving of the love from the one woman in the world who can give the most pure and sincere love, than you. I'm about as crazed with happiness that an un-mated vampire can be."

I laughed wholly then, a laugh I'd never heard before, "It's such a strange thing. To know that I'll always love her and she'll always love me." It was another strange thing, to speak to Edward as though we were brothers, not father and son, or mentor and student, just two clueless men wandering through our strange little life.

"I do forget sometimes, that you don't know the answer for everything," Edward sighed, "I suppose that's the problem with children though, we idolise our parents so much that we forget to realize they are people also. It's not a strange thought for me to think that Esme loves you. You've always seemed like two pieces of one whole unit to me. Hell, even to Lola and Brinkley. However, it seems strange for me to think of you not _knowing _something, of doing things that you've never done before. It's just… peculiar."

I laughed, incredibly placid in what would have once been an extraordinarily awkward situation; "It's strange for me also. I do like not knowing things, though, for then I have a chance to decipher something new, and I find that exhilarating."

He grinned, straightening up and turning to face me, "I know you do. I'm happy for the both of you."

There was a strange edge to his happiness though, and I couldn't quite decipher what it was.

I raised an eyebrow, "Edward, what is it? What is the matter?"

He bowed his head, and shook it awkwardly, "It's nothing."

"Please, tell me."

He sighed, "It's just… I wasn't sure if, perhaps, you'd be wanting me to leave soon, for you and Esme."

"No." I shook my head vehemently, "Never."

He smiled slightly, "I won't be in the way? I know how hard it is to find a balance… for our kind especially. I just feared perhaps now that you have one another, you wouldn't want me."

"Perhaps if it were anyone other than Esme and I, your worries would be sane, but you do realize we're talking about Esme, don't you? The one woman in the universe who loves the things that she hates. She just so happens to love you with everything she's got, you are more of a son to her than you even realize, she is utterly devoted to you, and I am too. No matter how much of a challenge it might be suppressing our… nature, we will do it. Neither Esme nor I would be happy with a life that didn't have you in it, Edward. We love you. We don't merely _want_ you here, we _need_ you."

I expected Edward to turn away in awkwardness, and mumble something incoherent, but instead, he grinned, "I told you when she was undergoing her transformation, that things were going to change, and we were going to have to grow more sentimental. You've done that exceptionally well at _that_," he laughed, "You remember, I'm sure, but have you figured out why yet?"

I slowly shook my head, "No…"

He grinned widely, "Because that one thing that got her through that transformation and every single day since then, even every day before that, was _you._"

"She really loves me as much as I do her, doesn't she?" I marvelled, grabbing a rag to wipe my oily hands, consumed by the need to see her again, to hold her in my arms… to feel my lips on hers.

"She loves you with a passion that is unparalleled, Carlisle." He grinned and bent back over the engine, "You go, I think I've almost got this."

I nodded, my mind far away again. Chucking the rag on the bench to my left I rolled my sleeves back down and turned to leave, but Edward called me back. His voice somewhat hesitant and low, much different from the jovial one he had spoken in only moments ago.

"Carlisle, there is one more thing I'd like to mention," his face was grave as he straightened his position, "I don't want to betray her confidence, because this is something that I've picked up on in her mind, and I'm not entirely sure she is even aware of it, but it's for her safety, and that's the only reason I'm mentioning it… Don't mistake her fear for modesty."

I cocked an eyebrow, "I don't understand."

He shrugged, "There's not much else that I can say without betraying her trust even more."

Worry and anxiety were bubbling in my venom filled veins, "Is it something I've done?"

"Oh, no. God, no. Carlisle, didn't I just say she loves you more than you realize? It' something… that _monster_ did," he snarled, "He damaged her more than even she realises."

I nodded, calm flooding my body once more, "Whatever it takes for her to be all right again, I'll do it."

He gave me a small smile, "I know you will," he paused awkwardly and looked away, "You're a good person… A good father."

My grin was large; I knew how much effort it would have taken him to speak those words, "Thank you, son."

"And I know you'll be careful, but I… I love her too, and I don't want to see the either of you upset. She's truly a mother to me."

I sighed, "I know. We'll figure this all out as a family, Edward. I promise."

He smiled again, "All right, go and see her. Let the awkwardness ensue."

I shook my head fondly, "You're far too much of a pessimist, Edward."

I walked out of the garage listening to his dark chortles. My heart was light as I pictured myself sitting in my study, listening to her light feet flutter between her bedroom and the bathroom, running to see what her new outfit looked like. I'd considered purchasing a mirror for her room, but selfishly, I'd miss the pitter-patter of her excited feet too much. So I'd not placed that particular order, and she'd not asked for it.  
I noticed vaguely that there was a tiny weight on my elated heart; '_Don't mistake her fear for modesty,' _Edward's earlier words haunted me. How many times had I done that before? She was an exceptionally modest person, but perhaps she was only a fearful person? And how would I be able to tell the difference?

My confusion was almost all consuming, drowning out the euphoria as though it was the great flood, but it did not last for long, disappearing altogether when I caught the sound of Esme humming. For the very first time since her second slip she was humming the melodic tune she reserved only for when she was utterly delighted. Most days, when she was happy, she would hum a tuneless song, which I realised after a short while was a subconscious action, but her tuneful humming? That was a completely different thing. She was happy, and I knew that if she were happy right then and there, so would I be. I could hear the pitter-patter of her feet, dancing to the bathroom, then the soft sound of a gentle twirl, and the whoosh of fabric behind her, before the pitter-patter returned to her room. I could have listened to that for days on end, but I so desperately wanted to see her,

I was somewhat nervous that the moments when I saw her next _would _be awkward as Edward had said, after all, I'd very little – to be honest, no – idea as to how one reacts after revealing their love for another… I only hoped that she did.

I entered through the kitchen door, the one both Esme and I favoured, and slowly made my way toward the hall, smiling to myself at her joy. When I reached the doorway I heard her humming stop, and then her soft footprints headed for the stairs, so naturally, like magnets, mine did too. I reached the foot as she reached the top; she grinned down at me animatedly, and flew down the steps. Without knowing exactly what I was doing, I opened my arms for her to run into, as though it was the most natural thing in the world… and somehow, it was. I picked her up and spun her around once, then placed her back onto the step so our eyes were on the same level.

"Hello again," she murmured quietly, as though her greeting was a secret between the two of us.

"Hello," I grinned, speaking low like her.

"How is the car? Was a positive prognosis delivered?" Her eyes sparkled with delight and amusement at her own joke, and I chuckled.

"I believe so. Edward seemed to be managing on his own."

Her eyes pretended to look shocked, and then she whispered, "Did you leave him… for me?"

I grinned, "Perhaps I did," I whispered back, almost scandalously.

"You shouldn't have," she chided, her voice barely audible as her lips drew nearer to mine.

"I'm not so sure," my words were merely a breathy whisper. I could feel her sweet breath on my face, I could smell heaven before me, our lips were mere millimetres apart, "I think I should have."

This kiss was unbelievably sweet, and astoundingly natural, like what I imagined the meeting of long-time lovers lips to be, mixed with the electricity from the nerves of new sweethearts. My hands rested on her thin waist, my mind partially marvelling at how tiny she was… and so feminine. It's not that I had been looking at her figure, per say, but it was almost impossible not to have noticed her beautiful curves. I never stared for a very long time, I refused to be a boor, but the passing glances that I stole showed me absolute beauty. Everything about her was beautiful, her mind, her body, her soul, every inch of her. And she loved _me_.

I pulled away gently when my sanity reminded me Edward could hear my every thought, and I knew that they were beginning to head in a less than respectable direction.

I lifted one of my oversized hands to stroke her cheek, her face was so small that my hand was nearly the size of it; she closed her eyes and smiled at the contact.

"Did you like your clothes?" I wondered, stealing a glance at her attire. She was wearing a long sleeved pink dress that fell to her ankles. "You look very nice."

Her smile grew; she opened her eyes, and nodded, "Very much so."

"You can hang your coats up with ours, if you would like?"

She cocked an eyebrow, "Where do you keep them?"

"The cupboard in the washroom," I admitted a little bashfully, knowing it was not the most practical place nor size.

Her eyes lit up with amusement, and she stifled a giggle, "Of course you do, and of course I would."

"I can place an order in for a new bureau if you would like? A bigger one, with a mirror? You'll run out of room soon."

She shook her head, "You don't have to do that, I have summer and winter clothes now, I won't need any more until they're ruined, and then I'll have space. You needn't spoil me, Carlisle."

I grinned and placed a gentle kiss upon the tip of her nose, "But that's exactly what I want to do. I love you."

Her eyes betrayed her sheer delight upon hearing those three short words, "And I love you," she whispered back, and I'm fairly certain that delight shined in my own eyes too.

For the remainder of the day, we were inseparable. I helped her store away her coats, which looked so tiny, compared to Edward's and mine, and then we relocated to the living room. Edward joined us not long after – announcing that the car was fixed – placed a kiss on his mother's head and took up his spot by the piano. We sat in our favourite position on the couch as he played, with our backs pressed against the arms, our feet pressed against each other, and books on our knees. Sometimes I'd move my foot, and give hers a nudge, so she'd giggle and kick mine back, other times I'd catch her smiling at her book, and when I asked her to, she'd read it out loud to me in her soft, shy voice. I liked to watch her face as her eyes skimmed over the words, and her lips twitched up in particular places that she thought were funny, other times she was thoughtful when she read something that made her wonder; I always took note of those things.  
By the time the evening arrived, Edward had joined us with our noses inside books, we'd taken up reading passages we liked then discussing the meanings behind them. Esme was hesitant at first to share what she thought of the literature, especially if her opinion was contrary to either Edwards, or mine, but with some gentle coaxing we managed to bring out fractions of her hidden opinion. Even Edward was amazed at the thousands of ways she could look at things. The woman had a debate with herself most of the time, explaining to Edward and I – who only seemed capable of seeing one or two sides – exactly how nothing was as it seemed. Some of her suggestions seemed outlandish and strange, but Edward would chuckle and remind himself (and I) that the particular author we were discussing was exceptionally eccentric, and Esme's suggestion was probably right. She had the same reaction every single time this happened: she'd look down shyly and mumble incoherently. I couldn't help but wonder, modesty or fear?

The evening wind had blown nearly all of the clouds out of the sky, so I whisked Esme outside to watch the sunset. We sat together on the back porch steps; her head nestled onto my shoulder, my arm around her thin frame. She was surely a sight for sore eyes in the pink and gold light; especially with the strange glow it gave her granite skin. More magnificent perhaps was the shade it turned her caramel hair, and the reflections I saw in her eyes.

I was not truly one for questions, I preferred to observe, but there was one that burned at my lips.

"What is it about sunsets that you love so much?" I murmured, skimming my lips across her hairline. She smiled and buried her face into my shoulder for a moment, before pulling back wearing a thoughtful expression.

She knew me well enough to know I didn't want a simple reply, such as 'The colours are beautiful' and I knew her well enough to know she'd never want to give that as a reply.

That is one of the reasons we were perfectly designed for one another. She desired to give strange and meaningful answers, and I desired to receive them.

"Sunsets give humans a reason to live."

There was silence for a moment as I tried to comprehend her statement… but I couldn't. I smiled to myself at the irony; of course I would fall in love with a woman who said things that I didn't understand.

"I must admit, I was expecting a lot of different things, but I wasn't expecting _that_."

She giggled, picking up the hand that rested on my knee. I willingly let her have it wondering exactly what she was going to do with it. She played with my fingers slowly and gently, bending them, pulling them, threading them through hers, all before settling on a combination of everything. It was an extraordinary feeling to watch the interest on her face as she experimented with my hand.

Her face was exceptionally expressive, perhaps due to the size of her doe eyes, or perhaps solely because of her personality, but I could read her face like a book I'd known my whole life. When she was feeling bashful, she'd laugh once and look to the floor, with a demure and even slightly embarrassed smile upon her lips. If she was feeling happy, she'd grin wide with her top teeth gleaming, if she was excited, her bottom teeth would gleam too, and her eyes would spark with elation. When she was playfully saying 'no', she'd crumple her nose, close her eyes, smile and shake her head quickly. When she was deep in thought, she'd suck her lips inwardly, so they'd disappear completely, and her deep dimples would be exposed exceptionally.  
I had to smile every time I caught sight of one. Her dimples were the most endearing things about her expressions. The one on her left cheek was almost always present, even if only minutely, but it became more pronounced when she talked. The one on her right cheek often appeared when she spoke, but was more comfortable coming out in a smile, or of course, her adorable deep in thought expression, which she wore as she pondered my fingers.

"Are you going to explain?" I murmured after an eternal moment of blazing curiosity.

She grinned mischievously, and raised her eyes to mine, "Would you like me to?"

"Very much so," I nodded.

She giggled, and then looked back up to the sky, threading both of her hands through the one of mine, her expression turning thoughtful. I had come to realize lately that Esme had two thoughtful expressions. The puckered lips expression signified that she was figuring something out, whereas the gentle look she got in her eyes as she cocked her head to the side, signified she was putting words to the wordless thoughts she had in her mind. Edward had often commented on how strange her mind was to read on occasions, for her thoughts were almost silent, not coming out in words, but instead, in feelings.

"A sunset signifies the end of a day," she murmured quietly, "As New Years Eve signifies the end of the year. Humans wait for these things. They count down the hours, the minutes, the months, because if they didn't, what would they have to live for? If we didn't have Christmas, and Easter, and birthdays, what would they look forward to? New Year would soon only signify the completion of another orbit of the sun, the sunset would only mark the halfway point in our planet's rotation, and humans would run out of things to live for. Every day would be one day; there would be no breaking it up, no separating it out. Humans would begin to wonder why. Why do we keep this charade continuing? Why do we wake in the morning? All sense would be eliminated and nothing would remain, aside from chaos. Nothing ever does well in chaos that isn't at least somewhat controlled. So we choose to celebrate New Years, Christmas, and birthdays, in hope that our world is here for something, in hope that in the end we do have a reason, for if there is no reason, then reason is also gone for why we carry on.  
"The world is the way that it is, purely based upon the way we look at it."

I smiled lovingly down at her, and placed a chaste kiss on her cheekbone, "Do you know who you remind me of?"

She looked up to me with curiosity in her eys, and shook her head.

"The girl who told me she liked blue because the sky is blue, and the sky does not have definitive limits and she liked the feeling of infinite possibilities."

Esme giggled, and shrugged, "Blue is nice."

I grinned, "Blue _is _nice."

I leaned forward to place another kiss atop her head, only because I couldn't help myself. She cuddled herself closer to me, as I inhaled her scent. A strange feeling of regret attacked my chest suddenly, quickly followed by potent guilt.

I kissed her head another time, and then lifted my face, "Esme?" I murmured gently.

"Mmm?" She didn't pull away to meet my eyes.

I squeezed her hands that held mine, tighter, and took a deep breath, "It just occurred to me that I owe you an apology."

She pulled away gently to look up at me quizzically, "No you don't," she replied with certainty.

I smiled at her tone, but disagreed, "Yes, I do. I should… I should have been braver and admitted my feelings to you before today. I should not have forced you into a place where you were the one to do it."

Had my voice not been so sincerely saturated with sorrow, I'm convinced she would have rolled her eyes, a gesture I've no doubt she inherited from our beloved Edward.

"Sweet Carlisle," she untangled a hand from out knot and reached up to stroke my face, "You're far too hard on yourself. I wasn't forced into telling you, I _wanted _to tell you. I wasn't entirely convinced of how you would react, and it slipped out almost unintentionally, but it was wholly my doing and not yours. Perhaps if I had been more ladylike I could have waited, but I had myself so worked up that I just couldn't bear it. Knowing what I know now, I should have told you on that night when we went to the lake, I should have pulled you back and told you, but something wasn't quite right just yet, back then. I convinced myself that you deserved better than me, I made a silly list of reasons why I couldn't tell you, but when it came down to it, I was scared. Only this morning when I saw you angry for the first time did it register in my mind I'd been silly this entire time. Subconsciously, I'd been worried how you would act when something went wrong. I should have known you'd do what you did, I should have known because I know you. You surprised me with your gentleness, your control, your calm, and I surprised myself because I did not feel scared… I felt unworthy. But I couldn't bear it. I needed to tell you… and I realised that I was ready to, and whether or not I was good enough, wasn't my decision to make.  
"So I came to the conclusion that the truth is an undeniable thing, it demands to be noticed and appreciated. We can't be friends. We're destined to be more than that. Then the words were coming out of my mouth like a landslide and I had no control, but for the first time in a very long time I didn't feel scared, I just felt… right."

Her words were music, the song to my soul, the one thing that I needed to hear. She hadn't been acting out of fear. I didn't realize it until that very moment, but I'd been craving to hear her admit that all day. Finally the weights had been lifted off of my heart, and it could fly high in the darkening sky once more. I grinned down at her tenderly, and smiled shyly back up at me.

"It does feel right," I murmured. I knew our future would present us with challenges, and that just because her past was behind her now, it would always be her past, and there would always be moments when it came back up, and she would be scared. I knew though, that I would be there to protect her, and I'd never let anything harm her ever again, "I love you," I whispered, for the umpteenth time that day.

Her reaction was always the same, pure, sheer delight, "And I love you," she whispered.

I tilted my head down slightly toward hers, and her hand gripped my face tighter, tugging slightly when I hesitated, I grinned wider, and she stifled a little giggle mere moments before my lips met hers once more.

I pulled away gently after a short while, remembering Edward was still very near, and not wanting to disturb him.

"I marvel at how easy this is," I murmured.

She smiled softly, our faces still so close they were almost touching, "So do I."

She gently released my hand, and cheek, before snaking her arms around my neck. I pulled her closer with the arm that was curved around her waist, and brought the other hand up to stroke her cheek, "I thought, after two and a half centuries, it wouldn't be easy for me to be… intimate with someone."

Her eyes sparkled with delight, and she grinned, "Carlisle, you're twenty-three, not two-hundred-and-eighty," she whispered.

I raised an eyebrow, "I'm both."

She giggled, "But when it comes to this," her lips brushed mine for a brief second, "You're twenty-three."

I chuckled slightly, realising her truths, and nuzzled her nose gently with mine, "I think you're right."

She beamed once again in delight. _That_ was a new response to being flattered. Every time I managed a new response out of her, one that replaced a moment that used to be shy and bashful, I felt a little like doing a jig, because it meant that she felt safe.

She cocked her head to the side slightly, a moment I felt more than I saw, and looked at me curiously, "Do you think that this is so natural to us, because of what we are?" She wondered.

I nodded, "I think so, yes."

"So…" her voice was hesitant, "Do you think this will ever change?"

I grinned, "How we feel?"

She nodded, I shook my head.

Relief flooded her features, and was then replaced with a grin that mirrored mine, "Good."

I chuckled, then felt curious myself, "Does it scare you?" I wondered, slightly worried for the answer.

She sucked her lips in thoughtfully again, "I thought it might… but truly, it doesn't. Does it scare you?"

I tried my best not to be surprised that she was aware of my own hesitation of starting a romantic relationship after all of my time alone, but I shook my head honestly, "No. I thought it would too, but it doesn't, because it's you."

Her answering smile was dazzling.

I chuckled slightly at her glee, and felt the regret pang at my heart once more, for not doing something more romantic as a revelation.

She sighed, and almost as though she read my mind, she murmured, "You're not still upset with yourself for being uncertain of my readiness, are you?"

When she put it like that, I suppose I wasn't, but I sighed and admitted that I was.

She shook her head fondly, and her eyes sparkled with adoration, "Carlisle, it's an ordinary thing to find love in extraordinary places, yet it's an extraordinary thing to find love in ordinary places. I don't want skies of a thousand stars, sunsets of the most magnificent colours, or days of bright beaming sunshine, as long as I get _you_. Truly, that is all that matters."

"You could have had both," I murmured quietly.

"I'll not be greedy," she grinned, "How it happened matters little, but that it did happen, matters greatly."

I gently stoked her face again, "You are extraordinary."

Her smile faltered for a moment, and she froze, believing I did something wrong, I froze also, and began to pull away, but the faint disbelieving whisper that came out of her mouth next had me crushing her – gently – to my chest.

"No one has ever called me extraordinary before."

She held on just as tightly as I, if not even tighter, slightly painfully so with her newborn strength, but not uncomfortable per say. Not uncomfortable in the least…

There was a creak from the kitchen door, and Esme pulled away slightly to turn toward the noise.

Edward cleared his throat, "May I join you both?"

Esme's smile lit up her whole face, "Of course, Edward. Always."

She placed a kiss on my cheek before shuffling into a more respectable position; I shuffled also, attempting to hide a true pitfall of masculinity.

Edward chuckled lightly, most likely to my thoughts rather than Esme's, and took a seat on the same step as us, leaning against the opposite banister. I wrapped my arm around Esme's shoulder once more, and she placed a delicate arm on my leg, her hand on my knee in an innocent gesture, and reached her other hand out to Edward, who took it gladly, all the while smirking at my thoughts.

Esme looked between the two of us curiously, and then sighed, "I _think_ I could get used to this."

I raised an eyebrow, "What is that, darling? Being a family?"

She smiled and shook her head, before resting it on my shoulder once again, staring at the sky, "No, this is too lovely to ever get complacent with."

I cocked my head in confusion, and she smirked, catching the gesture out the corner of her eye, "I meant that I _think _I could get used to being left out of silent conversations."

Edward grinned widely and chuckled, my laughter joined in with his jovially, only pausing momentarily to place a soft kiss upon the forehead of the only woman I would ever love, whose eyes danced with the light of a thousand stars in the sky above.

* * *

_A.N. Hi there! Thank you all for the reviews on the last chapter! I knew it would not be what everyone was expecting, but I'm hoping this chapter will explain (somewhat) why it was the way it was... also the reason I had Esme admit her feelings and not Carlisle, was because of an interview with Stephenie Meyer that I read somewhere, in which she stated that Esme was the one to admit her feelings first, and I wanted to keep this as canon as I can. I have no idea where the interview was, and I probably just dreamed it up, because I seem to do that (can you tell I have an over-active imagination?)_

Anyway, I had a question! Yes, tell me (if you'd like) when you read this story do you picture Esme, Carlisle and Edward as the actors who portrayed them in the movies, the characters drawn by Young Kim in the graphic novel/s and illustrated guide, or your own version of then based on the book descriptions? For me, it's the Young Kim graphics/my own twist on them... But I am just curious, because I think it can have an impact on how the story is conveyed. Not a major one, but still a slight impact and that just oddly interests me...

_Speaking of things that interest me, I've spent the whole week being utterly captivated by the thyroid gland, which is waaaaay more interesting that Carlisle and Esme (major sarcasm there. I actually passionately dislike the thyroid gland), which is why I haven't updated in a while, but that assignment is almost done so I should be back to updating regularly soon, no promises as always because I don't want to make and then brake promises. So yes, sorry for the wait, blame the thyroid gland... Don't take it out on the thyroid gland though, it's actually very, very important. Trust me, I know. Grrrrrrrrrrr. (I will not study endocrinology as a specialisation. No. Way. No.)_

_That's enough, that's enough. I've gone stir crazy from these assignments. Enjoy! Enjoy! Review! Review! Thank you! Thank you! Adieu! Adieu!_


	31. Sunday Salt Marshes

_Chapter Thirty-One: Sunday Salt Marshes_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, September 1921_

_Carlisle_

There are moments in life that are undoubtedly predictably painful. One is never astounded at the pain that arrives at one of these times, because one expects it, naturally. There are other moments in life when pain comes out of left field, wacks into you, knocks you senseless, and consumes every atom of your being. As strange as it was to marvel at while I walked the empty halls of Ashland General Hospital, I relived the painful moment that I had experienced mere hours ago, as though it was addictive, because everything about _her_ was addictive…even the pain that threatened to crush my un-beating heart when I kissed her goodbye and stepped out the door that evening. I was spoiled with her company on my night off, so much so, that it was a shock to my system, being away from her, but the thought of her being at our home when time came for me to go, kept me going throughout the night. I worked with such vigour and happiness, I nearly didn't know myself. My colleagues felt the same. The hospital staff began to talk of the mysterious Doctor Cullen, and his sudden change in demeanour. I should have cared that they noticed, I should have cared that they were interested, that they were asking questions, that they were becoming suspicious… but somehow, I just couldn't. It is important to care for things in life, as a doctor, I had sworn to care for every living soul that needed my care, but there are different amounts of care one gives to different things, and on that day, I could only care that Esme was in love with me, and I was in love with her.

Eternity should not be such a strange concept to a two-hundred-and-eighty year old man, but eternity meant something more with her, because all of a sudden, eternity seemed very short. For the very first time in both my living and un-dead lives, I had something to live for. I had _her. _The hospital made me realize this. Being away from her was painful, but I knew it would be so much sweeter when I returned home.

And so it was.

She didn't meet me in the garage, as I wished she would. I knew she was still too shy to seem to eager, so I didn't let it get to me. Instead, she met me at the door, I had walked up the steps slowly, hoping that awkwardness would not have caught up with us, but as per usual, I need not have worried, for the magnets between our bodies had her safely tucked into my arms seconds after I'd shut the door behind me. Could it be possible that she had grown more beautiful in the time that I was gone? She stood there in her adorable pink dress - which gave the most exquisite view of her tiny collarbones - and the ripped curtain tied in a bow around the bun at the back of her head. She looked younger like this.

When she pulled away, she gazed up at me smiling, her eyes gleaming with delight, "Did you have a good shift?"

I nodded, for I couldn't say anything, my lips wanted something other than words, they were hungry, they were starving, for just a sweet little taste of hers.

Esme's lips always seemed to want the same thing as mine, so she indulged me.

The days that followed passed in the same fashion. Except, with every day that passed, we kissed a little longer, I held her a little closer, we grew a little more comfortable, and I pushed my famous self control right to its limits, but I never let it escape me, no matter how hard that was to do.

I was late home on Sunday, and Edward had left early for Duluth by foot, so Esme was home alone. I tried my best not to get excited by the fact that _we_ would be home alone _together_. I appreciated Edwards company; it made resisting Esme much easier, but there was something perfect about having the house to ourselves.

Esme met me in the hallway again, wearing the same delighted grin.

"Good morning, doctor," she grinned, rounding the corner from the living room.

"Good morning, my little apple," I dropped my bag at my feet and pulled her close to me.

"How was your ni…" her question was interrupted when I claimed her lips with mine. Although to an outsider, my actions were ungentlemanly, my darling knew that I was teasing her. In turn she interrupted the kiss with her giggles.

She pulled back and brushed the hair out of my face, tender love dancing in her golden eyes, "Can I safely assume that it was filled with missing a particularly frightening female vampire who is known for cutting neat squares out of ceilings?"

"Most definitely," I grinned, "And how was yo…"

This time _she_ interrupted _me_ with _her_ kiss, and I was the one to break it with laughter.

I pulled back slowly, resting my forehead against hers and she winked, "Gotcha."

"Have you been reading those illustrated magazines again?" I teased.

She smirked, "Of course not, why would I have?"

"I've no reason in particular to think so, other than your newly found distaste for the proper English language."

She sighed theatrically, "I almost forgot I was talking to a man born in 1640. Doth thee protest very much?" She pursed her lips and nodded, "Me thinks thee doth."

I couldn't stop my smile from growing at that, "I'm not Shakespeare, you know."

Her doe eyes were wide in sincerity, "Oh yes, I do know that. He's the one person in history who is older than you."

There was a moment of complete silence before she pulled away grinning from ear to ear, knowing I'd take her bait.

"The one person?" I exclaimed grinning.

She giggled and nodded, "The _one _person."

"Oh no, you're not getting away with that one," I pulled her back in close to me, ever careful to be very gentle, and covered her face in feather light kisses.

Bubbles of giggles erupted from her as she scrunched her face up, but made no move to escape my grasp. Being gentle with Esme was always key, I never wanted to give her any reason to compare me to the monster who hurt her. I ended my onslaught of kisses, with a sweet one on her plump lips.

She grinned up at me when I pulled away, "Now, in all seriousness, did you have a pleasant shift?"

I nodded, "Although I spent most of it reminding myself that you really would be here, waiting for me when I arrived home."

She laughed, "As I always will be."

I smiled gratefully, "And in all seriousness, did you have a pleasant night?"

She nodded, but pursed her lips in thought, "Edward has been a little… withdrawn lately. He won't discuss what it on his mind, I've not asked him of it, but I know he hears me thinking about it. Perhaps I'm thinking over it too much, I'm very accustomed to him dismissing my worry as soon as it comes into my mind, but he hasn't this time…"

I sighed, "I've noticed this also, perhaps I'll mention it to him later today. He's gone to Duluth?"

She nodded, "He had library books to return, and he mentioned there was a public lecture being given."

"He doesn't much care for Ashland. Although it's easier thirst wise, he's very much one for the city."

She laughed humourlessly, "I can't say I'm overly fond of cities to be quite honest."

"Nor I, the modern cities are a little too futuristic for my liking."

"That's because you were born around the same time as Leopold I, King of many places."

I laughed, and shook my head fondly at her quip, "He was the Holy Roman Emperor."

She nodded, "The fact that there still was a Holy Roman Empire is testament enough to your age being rather on the old side."

I raised my eyebrows, grinning like a schoolboy, "And yet you still love me."

"I _am_ rather partial to old things."

Laughing, I nuzzled her nose then took her lips with mine once more. It would be easy to get addicted to the way she melted into me as though we were one, and perhaps I already was. Despite our kisses being long but chaste, there was something distinctly vampire about the way that our lips met, and there were many times in the passed five days since our walk in the forest, when I may have let them become more than just chaste… But I wouldn't. I knew exactly what to expect, and yet every single time it caught me off guard. She was too mesmerising to let go, so I waited until the very moment before I lost control, and then I pulled away, always. Perhaps waiting so long was tempting fate, but I was hell-bent on finding a balance between vampire and gentleman.

I could never help the smile that formed on my face when I pulled back, and she never seemed to be able to either. I rested my forehead against hers once more, in love with the comfort of our close proximity, and lifted my hands from her waist to her face, and tucked my favourite strands of hair away. She kept her eyes closed, as though completely at peace.

"I love you," I whispered.

Her smile grew, "I love you too."

"I thought of something we could do together, today." I had been wracking my brains every single day on the car journey home from the hospital for activities that would make resisting her easier. Esme loved everything that I suggested, but I knew that she, just like me – although she'd never admit it – would love to spend the day together in our home on the couch in each other's arms, much more than any adventure I devised. She was an adventurous woman by nature; I loved this about her dearly, even though her wild soul took a great amount of effort to coax out. Yet the novelty of having a small frame to lovingly wrap my arms around and hold close was far more enticing for me, than anything else that the world contained, and I knew she felt the same way. It was just too risky for us to spend the whole day this way, I didn't know how well my self-control would fare, and I couldn't have her noticing exactly how I felt about her… no matter how much of a gentleman I was trying to be, I'd always have to deal with being a man.

"And what is that?" She murmured, her soft breath was warm on my face, the smell of her intoxicating to me.

Keeping as much of a clear head as possible I focussed on speaking in an even voice, "I found a little lake with the most peculiar ecosystem the last time I was up here in Wisconsin, would you like to spend the day there?"

She nodded opening her eyes, "That sounds lovely."

"I may just change before we leave and…" I trailed off awkwardly; bathing wasn't truly a subject I wanted to discuss when I was in such close proximity to her.

Thankfully, as always, she understood, "Of course," she gave me a quick peck on the cheek before stepping back, "Take as long as you like."

I bathed quickly, and changed into old clothes, privy to the amount of mud present at the particular lake I was taking her to, and then joined her in the hall once again.

"You do look delightful in blue, my love," I murmured, taking her hand and leading her out the door.

She giggled and glanced down at her deep blue skirt and blouse, "Thank you."

Esme was fond of muted colours and light shades, as was I, it was not often that I caught her in a deep or bold colour, but she suited it all the same. She was breathtaking.

"Are you particularly partial to this outfit?" I wondered as we crossed the lawn into the forest.

"No, it's one of my older ones." She answered slowly, cautiously, "Is there a specific reason for why you ask?"

I shrugged, "Sometimes the forest is dirty, I wouldn't want any harm to come to your favourite clothes."

She narrowed her eyes, "Are we going somewhere that has an excessive amount of dirt?"

"Not in particular," I murmured eerily, wanting to see her face when she caught sight of the mud. I wondered if she still liked it as she did when she was sixteen.

She giggled, "Cryptic Carlisle… interesting."

We ran peacefully to the little lake I had told her of, her hand securely in mine as we glided over small inclines and through narrow openings between trees. I always enjoyed the speed associated with running, and the wind that assaulted my face. Something about being with Esme, however, enabled me to appreciate a lack of speed. She glowed with an aura of peace and calm, it filled her entire being so much that it overflowed and ebbed into my veins also. It was the same as her love. She had so much of it; it was necessary for her to give it away. I was just unbelievably lucky that she chose to give the most to me.

The greens, browns, oranges and golds of the forest soon thinned, and made way for more rays of sunlight muted by the clouds overhead that hid the gigantic star behind them. Soon enough we found ourselves in an odd shaped clearing, filled with long yellowing grass that swayed in the gentle autumnal breeze, and a heart of still blue lake water.

The small lake I had found so many years ago was very different to the one I saw before me now. What used to be brimming with wildlife was barren and empty to the core, of course, this wasn't spring and the birds that I had once seen migrated to the south in the colder months, but I'd never expected the once beautiful setting to be quite so desolate.

"Well, this is a lot different to when I was here last."

Esme looked up to me and smile at my somewhat disappointed expression, "I like it. The yellows and blues look so odd together, I'm used to seeing yellows with browns and blues with greens, so this is nice."

I nodded, agreeing, the colours were one of the reasons that I had initially become besotted with the place, "It's the salt marshes that I found particularly interesting here," I murmured.

She let out a quiet laugh, "That doesn't surprise me."

I cocked my eyebrow, "Why ever not?"

Her eyes danced with tender love as she reached up to stroke my cheek, "I've come to notice that you are rather partial to the least loveable things."

"You don't like the salt marshes?"

She shook her head, her small smile still played upon her lips, "I love them too."

Laughing, I nodded, "I thought you might."

Gently she tugged my hand forward, away from the fringes of the forest and closer towards the water heart of the clearing. "What is it about these particular plants that has you so entranced?" She wondered quietly as we neared the tall planes of salt-loving grass.

"These aren't technically salt marshes, because the lake water is fresh, but for some reason they grow here and salt water birds come to feed. I'm rather at a loss as to why, but do I have a few ideas."

As she cocked her head to the side I watched a few strands of her hair fall from the bun at the back of her head, "It's somewhat of a supernatural lake, then?"

I chuckled, reaching up to tuck them back into her beloved hairstyle, despite wanting to let it out, "Yes, I suppose you could say that."

"Then we fit in perfectly," she announced this somewhat definitively, before coming to a complete halt at the edge of the marshes, staring at her feet.

"What is the matter?" I wondered, alarmed.

"Mud," she whispered, "I just stepped in mud."

Confusion filled my body as I wondered the meaning behind her aversion to wet dirt, I was sure that she would love it as she had at sixteen.

"Yes?" I replied quietly, my curiosity burning, but my manners stubbornly staying in place.

"I don't… understand," she stared at the mud intently, as though it would crumble under her gaze and give the answer to her unspoken question.

"What is it, my love?" My curiosity won the battle with my manners mere moments later.

She looked up to me in resignation, marginally miffed at the mud for not providing her with the answers that she deserved, "Why is there mud here, when the water is so blue and clear? It does not make sense to me."

My burning curiosity, and somehow flaming worry were extinguished by her reply. She did not have an aversion to mud; she merely had an aversion to illogical situations.

"It's the marshes, they seem to filter the dirt straight out of the water. I can't think why, it's not natural, but it's what's happened. Sometimes we must accept things without an explanation."

She nodded slowly, and seemed to carefully consider her next words, before her lips spread into a small smirk; "I gather that you bringing me here infers you've no issues with my feet getting a little muddy?"

I chuckled, "None at all."

I let go of her hand for a moment, and reached down to tug off my shoes and socks, before steeping boldly into the mud. Had I been human, and my internal body temperature been higher than the freezing cold temperature of the water that dampened the dirt, I might have shivered and insisted that she not follow me. However, as it was, the mud was rather warm to me.

She grinned and giggled, before slipping out of her small shoes, reaching for my hand, and joining me in the brown sludge.

"You've not grown out of your fondness for mud?" I teased.

"Contrary to my parents' belief, Doctor Cullen, it was not merely a phase, but rather, part of who I am."

"And what a beautiful person you are, indeed." I lifted my hand up to her small face, battling with the gentle breeze that insisted upon blowing her caramel curls out of her bun and into her eyes. She smiled self-consciously and dropped her gaze from my face, the endearing response so complements that I had come to expect.

"Thank you," she murmured, smiling.

I leaned down and placed a loving kiss upon her forehead, "I will always be here to remind you of how incredible you are, my darling."

She looked up and grinned at me once I'd pulled away, "I will hold you to that promise, Doctor."

I chuckled, "Please do."

Our lips gave in to the tension of the magnet that insisted they be apart for no longer, and joined in a tangle similar to that of my blonde and her brown hair. It was a beautiful thing. I carefully pulled away at my usual moment, right before I lost control.

I caught a flash of white out the corner of my eye, and grinned, "There's something I want to show you," I murmured.

She nodded with curiosity dancing in her doe eyes.

"We have to be very quiet," I breathed, "We'll scare them if they see us… I say, Miss Platt, exactly how opposed are you to getting a little more mud on your lovely dress?"

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, but her lips turned upward tenderly, "Not very opposed."

I grinned, "Good," I sunk into a couch, gesturing for her to do the same, and grinning wider as she joined me in amongst the tall grass of the salt marsh that hid us.

I crept forward ever so slowly, not in the way of a predator, but in the way of a cautious explorer, and gently pushed the monocots aside. When the tall and statuesque bird came into view, I paused and shifted to the side slightly, to allow Esme a good view.

She gasped, "Oh my word, Carlisle! Aren't they just grand?"

I nodded, still awed at the beauty of the large white bird with long, stilt black legs, black feathers around an orange beak, and red feathers above golden eyes, exactly the same colour as mine.

"What is it?" She wondered in a whisper.

"A Whooping crane. They migrate here for summer; this one must be late leaving. When I first came here, there were very many, but now they are nearly extinct."

Her head whipped around in my direction, "Why?"

"Human hunting," I sighed.

"We must always be sure never to hunt endangered animals," she whispered passionately.

I agreed, "Definitely."

She smiled slightly, but her eyes turned sad. She looked back to the large bird jabbing its beak into the mud in search of food, "Are the humans doing anything to save them?"

I nodded, "I think so, although I can't be sure."

Her eyes sparkled with awe and love as she watched the bird hunt, I smiled to myself; she was enjoying this.

"Darling, would it be awfully improper for me to get covered in mud?"

She didn't reply verbally, too fixated with the bird, but shook her head. She was so entranced with the wildlife; I doubt she would have even noticed my sitting down in the mud had I not asked. Although crouching caused no lethargy or muscular cramps, I preferred acting as human as I could, and I didn't mind mud in the slightest.

I sat in the mud, not minding as it seeped through my clothes, content to watch her utter fascination with the creatures. She was still, unnaturally so, and brimming with adoration.

"Carlisle," she whispered after a short while, turning her face to look at me. Her eyes danced with amusement as when she caught me comfortably sitting in the damp dirt, but smirked as she mimicked my position, "There are two."

I leaned closer to her to peak through the long grass at the birds, and sure enough a slightly smaller crane had joined its mate in the hunt.

I placed a kiss on her soft cheek and went back to my earlier position. When the birds once again captured her attention, I smirked to myself and reclined back into the mud, closing my eyes.

I could feel her eyes on me only moments later, followed by the softest of giggles, "I'm sleeping," I murmured.

"Ah," she whispered in reply. Although I felt no contact, I could feel body her leaning over me, and moments later her soft lips were pressed against my forehead, "Sweet dreams," her voice was quiet but filled with amusement.

I chuckled quietly to myself and lay in the mud with my eyes closed for as long as I could bear, before opening them and fixating them on her. As she watched the birds in utter rapture, I watched her the same way.

We hadn't been watching the birds for very long at all when her eyes widened in surprise and a large grin spread across her beautiful face, flooding every feature with bright light.

She turned to me slowly extending her hand – which I skilfully caught – to get my attention she hadn't realised that she already had, "They have children," she whispered beaming.

My brow furrowed, "But it's autumn."

She grinned, and nodded, "I think they're adopted."

Confusion and curiosity battled for pride of place in my body as I sat up to take a look. Peeking through the gap in the grass I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face when I caught sight of the twelve teenage ducks being ordered around by the gigantic Whooping cranes.

I chuckled to myself quietly, "I think you're right. They're adopted."

She sighed, her head falling gently onto my shoulder, "They're so adorable."

I tried to stop myself from chuckling harder, not wanting to embarrass her, nor frighten the birds, but I wasn't entirely convinced that she had realised my shoulder was covered in mud.

"Uh, love…" I murmured.

She raised her head and look to me curiously, her perfect full cheek covered in thick brown mud, "Yes?"

I pointed to her soft cheek; "You've got a little bit of mud on your face."

She nodded innocently, "I know. You've got a little bit covering the entirety of your back there, too."

My self-control was not spectacular enough to stop me from laughing, I instantly regretted expressing my amusement when I heard the flutter of strong, and weak wings in the distance.

"Carlisle!" Esme chided in a whisper, her smile growing more pronounced on her beautiful button face, "You scared the poor birds!"

"I am awfully sorry, my love," I murmured sincerely, raising the hand I held up to my lips, and kissing it gently.

She sighed theatrically, "Oh, I suppose it's all right."

I pulled back, grinning from ear to ear marvelling at how the euphoria of first love still hadn't left my system. "Would you still like to stay now that the birds are gone?" I wondered.

She nodded, "It looked very nice and peaceful, watching the clouds."

I felt my smile turn lopsided bashfully, "Oh, I wasn't watching the clouds."

She laughed, "I am well aware of that, Doctor." She tapped the back of her skull, "Eyes in the back of my head."

I grinned mischievously, "So you would like to lay in the mud then?"

"Yes, if you'll not think badly of me."

"Not at all, but you'll get it in your hair." I reminded her.

She shrugged, "You have it in yours."

Laughing, I lay back into the mud and watched as she reclined back next to me. How greatly I wanted to wrap my arm around her shoulder and let her head rest upon my chest… I sighed, dispelling the inappropriate thoughts from my mind.

"Whatever is the matter?" Esme wondered serenely, her eyes clued to the canopy of clouds above us.

"Nothing," I lied, hating myself for it.

I watched her brow furrow in confusion for a long moment before she breathed deeply and let it go, "Does it fade, the strength of the emotions, or do you merely grow accustomed to it?" She asked suddenly.

I pondered her question for a while; "I think we grow accustomed to it. Perhaps the newborn year is not so much a year when all is worse, but merely a year of complete and utter befuddlement due to the drastic change."

She nodded, "So come April, I'll have better control over it all, and it won't all feel so… all consuming."

I sighed, "Ordinary emotions won't be all consuming, no."

"But… non-ordinary emotions will?" She asked cautiously.

I laughed, dispelling the sudden awkwardness from our conversation; "I feel love for you with every fibre of my being. It's all consuming, and I don't think that will ever be any other way."

She smiled, in what looked like relief, but also in glee, "I'm happy about that. Although it's hard to manage, and I'm sure I do a God awful job of trying to control it, I do like it."

I turned my face to look at her, completely covering my cheek in mud, matching hers, "You are perfect to me," I murmured truthfully.

She smiled but only her eyes turned my way, "I'd say you're being too kind, but I think perhaps you're biased."

I shook my head, "No, you do so well at this. Edward was such an angry newborn, but you, you're so… placid."

She raised her eyebrows dubiously, "I can be wild."

I laughed, "Only when you hunt, and we all are."

"Not you," her voice was a mumble.

I shrugged, "I've had a lot of practise. Remember, I've been around since Leopold I was born, and only Shakespeare is older than me."

The corner of her lips pulled up in a smile, "Oh all right, so perhaps I'm not really a _wild _newborn, but I have my other struggles, and lapses in control."

I raised an eyebrow again, "None jump out to me."

She sighed, and turned to face me, our noses were mere millimetres apart, "I'm shocking at controlling my emotions, Carlisle. One minute I'm happy and giggling like a schoolgirl, the next I'm filled with hopelessness and self-doubt. Then the rest of the time I'm acting all wanton and promiscuous."

"You don't," I disagreed in a whisper, reaching up to wipe the mud of her beautiful face, "If you'd not said it, I may have come to wonder exactly how you were feeling."

Her eyes broke contact with mine, and she looked away to the sky, "That's embarrassing," she mumbled.

"Please don't feel embarrassed. I didn't intend to embarrass you."

She shook her head, but her averted eyes were sad, "You didn't embarrass me, I did it to myself. I have a particular talent for that."

"You never need to feel embarrassed with me," I whispered, "Never."

Suddenly, surprising me, she laughed humourlessly, "I suppose you're correct. After all, I'm lying in mud."

I grinned, "You like mud."

She pursed her lips, trying to hide her smile, "I do."

Still stroking her near clean cheek, I looked her directly in the eye, "Its good that we talk about these things. You're going through a lot, and I want to be there to help you through it. Not just as your creator, but as a man who loves you more than anything else."

She nodded, and smiled, "Thank you."

"I do forget to remember what it was like, the newborn emotions." I sighed.

She looked curious, "What was it like for you?"

I pursed my lips, remembering the isolation and loneliness of my own newborn year, "It was difficult… I felt very… alone."

Her eyes were gentle and soft, "At least you know now, that you'll never be alone again."

I smiled back at her, "I do. And that makes it all worth it."

I caught her eyes drift to my lips, before heading back to make contact with my own eyes, and she gave an impish smile, "I'd better not kiss you."

I cocked an eyebrow, "No?"

She shook her head, and turned her face toward the sky once more, "I don't think I'd be able to rein the newborn in."

I chuckled, "Fair enough. My control isn't as good as you may think it is either… At least not when it comes to you."

She giggled, "Is that so?"

I nodded, chagrin building in my chest, "Yes. I have a constant internal battle between my vampire nature and the gentlemanly ideals I would greatly like to uphold."

Her giggles seamlessly turned into bubbling laughter, "I've no clue how to reply to that in such a way that won't sound unchaste."

"Then perhaps a change of subject is in order?" I suggested lightly, "Don't those clouds look lovely today?"

"Oh yes," she murmured sarcastically, "They look very spiffy."

"Where did you enthusiasm go?" I teased.

She laughed and shook her head, "I am an emotional canvas of colours, and it is bright enough already without adding the violent shades of enthusiasm in."

I laughed, grabbing the hand that lay by her side and bringing it up to my lips, to serenade it with kisses.

"Oh," she sighed, "I am a complete and utter mess… But I may as well be a colourful one."

"You are not a mess, my love. You are a beautiful woodland fairy lying in mud."

She smiled tenderly towards the sky, "My grandparents used to call me a woodland fairy."

"Mmmm, I think I would have liked to have met these grandparents of yours." I murmured as I kissed each finger, each knuckle, and every patch of skin on her hand.

"Horribly, I often wished that they could have raised me instead of my parents. Perhaps I would have met you a few more times had that been the case."

"I think I may have stolen you away if you had have."

"I wouldn't have complained," she whispered, "But I don't regret the life I had."

"Our hardships shape us in both good and bad ways," I murmured while particularly captivated by her perfect fingernails.

"Yes. My parents would call me broken, no doubt, but I'd most likely indignantly reply, cracks are the only way to let in the light."

"And you, my darling, are so filled with light that the sun in envious and refuses to come out from behind the clouds."

Her hand squeezed mine while she let out an endearing laugh, "You are an endless pool of complements."

"And I endeavour to remain that way for the rest of eternity."

"I hope you're aware that the only reason the sun is hiding is because we don't need it."

I raised an eyebrow, still fixated with her beautiful hand, "We don't?"

She shook her head, "No, because we have _you_."

Edward had often teased me that I looked like the embodiment of the sun, I'd never truly taken his teasing with any weight behind it, but Esme's words were so sincere and quiet, she effortlessly made me feel completely and utterly loved.

It seemed strange however, that she should think me to be like the sun, when she truly _was_ a sun to me.

I often found myself thinking of her heritage, I'd seen her parents, of course, the gruff man and the frail woman, but I had I not seen them I'd be inclined to believe that her mother was the sun and her father was the Earth, because she was the perfect and even divide of both those heavenly bodies.

I pulled my lips away from her hand, and held it close to my un-beating heart, "I love you, Esme."

I watched as she smiled and closed her eyes, as though bathing in my truthful words, "I love you too, Carlisle," she whispered.

We lay there side by side for a very long time, watching the clouds pass by in the sky. Every so often speaking soft words, or brushing soft kisses on hands. When the afternoon was in full swing we decided to make our way slowly back home, hoping to arrive and get a chance to clean up before Edward got back from Duluth.

"May I hear more of your grandparents?" I asked as we few silently over the green-going-gold forest floor.

She smiled, and nodded, "They used to tell me that there were three secrets to living a fulfilling life. The first was that one must live freely; the second was that one must live wildly, and the third was that one must live vividly. Similarly, there were three secrets to giving love. The first was that one must love truly, the second, one must love sincerely, and the third, one must love passionately. Then one day they told me that there was a fourth, the most secret of them all, but it was hidden obviously for me to always see. They liked riddles," she laughed fondly, "In fact it was my grandparents who actually named me."

"Is that so?"

She nodded matter-of-factly, "Indeed. They named me Esme for what it means."

"Beloved," I murmured, kissing her temple as we ran.

She giggled, "Yes, but to them it had two meanings."

"Oh? What was the second?"

"Be loved."

A small smiled crept onto my lips, I had discovered the very place everything that Esme held dear spawned from, "That is actually rather poetic."

She laughed, "Yes, and that alternate meaning is the fourth secret to love."

I was quiet for a moment as I pondered it, but I sought her confirmation.

"The fourth secret to giving love truly is to receive love in return."

"The boomerang," I murmured.

She smiled, and nodded, "The boomerang exactly."

Gently, I pulled her to a stop, "I think I would have loved your grandparents, had I ever met them."

She stepped in closer to me, so I encircled her in my arms, "I think you would have loved them too, and I'm certain that they would have loved you."

All was silent for a moment, as time stood still for us in the forest. The trees were the only observers of our quiet and tender embrace.

"They lived a legacy, my grandparents, not just a life, because they live on inside of me. Right here, right now, I am my grandfather's sunshine and my grandmother's moonlight," she whispered sweetly.

"And my everything," I reminded her.

She pulled back and gazed up at me adoringly, "As you are mine… Well, mostly."

"Mostly?" I felt my lips curve into the now-familiar amused smile.

"We do have a son."

"Oh yes, we can not forget about our son."

"Who will be home soon."

"And embarrassed to see his parents come home covered in mud."

"Exactly…" Her eyes danced with more light, as her smile grew wider, "I do so much like thinking of _us _as his parents."

I grinned back down at the perfect woman in my arms, "Me too, especially embarrassing parents."

We turned, and began walking arm in arm, "He needs a decent dose of embarrassment, that boy," she murmured.

My laughter was so loud it may have echoed off of Mount Everest, "He has a heart of gold."

She agreed, and snuggled closer to me, "Just like his father."

"His father who should probably spend some time this afternoon helping him with his anatomy coursework," I murmured quietly.

She nodded, "He'll like that. I think I'll try to draw our favourite bird family while you do. I've never drawn animals before. They can't be too different from humans."

"That reminds me, I must purchase a proper sketchbook for you in town."

"Carlisle, you needn't do that, paper will work just fine."

"And where will you keep all of your loose sheets?"

"I'll hide them in your desk drawers."

"You really do know how to change my mind, don't you?"

And we dissolved into the forest, our playful disagreements floating after us, carried by the gentle autumn breeze that dried the mud to our clothes, and remembered only by us and the trees that Esme loved.

* * *

_A.N. Aloha! I am awfully glad this week is nearly over, what a big one it has been! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, it is very fluff-centric, but I needed some easy and lovey moments after this very long week! As I'm sure many of you do!_

_The next chapter will see the return of Esme's point of view, and our recently quiet Edward (whose POV we will see i a few more chapters, 4 more I think...?) and I'm aiming for it to be a little bit darker, but who knows how it will turn out. _

_Most of my major assignments are all done, and finals for me in my corner of the world aren't for a few more weeks, so the next chapter shouldn't bee too much of a wait. (The longer I wait, the harder it is to write, because I've lived these moments in my head thousands of times - seriously though, Carlisle and Esme are so much more interesting than recapping the proper test-tube solutions for different blood samples for the seventeenth time)._

_Thank you all for telling me how you picture our beloved characters! It's interesting, because everyone sees them differently. I hope that the Carlisle and Esme I write aren't too different from those that you picture. I have a very in-depth character analysis of Esme in my head that I'm far too exhausted to write just now, but may condense it into a short authors note (HA! When do I ever do them?) one day when my brain will allow it._

_Hoping you're all well and happy! Thanks again for all the support and reviews! _

_Much love x_


	32. Dark Alleys, Black Nights

_Chapter Thirty-Two: Dark Alleys, Black Nights_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, October 1921_

_Esme_

Wisconsin winds were wild things. Wilder than any beast I'd ever come across, even newborn me. They blew the old house from left to right, hammering the wood that compromised the outside, and threatened to pull everything loose. I thought for a moment, when I heard the shutters slamming against the windows, that I must have missed the fact that our house actually had shutters but I realised soon after, the sound was most likely the weatherboard – which couldn't weather the wild weather very well at all – coming undone and whacking the house it was torn from.

I liked storms. The flashes of lightening always illuminated the cloud filled sky in the most beautiful way, and oddly, to me, the violence was somewhat peaceful. I was sitting up, leaning against the headboard in my bedroom, watching the storm out of the windows opposite the gigantic four-poster. The soft sheets covered my lap, and although I did not require the blankets for warmth, the mattress for rest or anything about the bed for comfort… I liked it. Edward was downstairs playing his piano, learning a new piece by the sounds of it. I was always amazed at the speed he could master a new composition with. I could hear the fire crackling in the study beneath me, and the only thing that was missing was Carlisle.

It was early in the hours of October first, and I was fighting back a particular memory that was insisting upon being relived. Hence my extreme focus on the storm outside my window.

Edward's melody from beneath floated up the stairs, effortlessly changing into a calmer, happier and somehow familiar piece. I wasn't sure what the message he intended it to convey was exactly, but I knew it was a message of comfort.

Realising the tensed natured of my muscles, I relaxed back against the headboard, and pulled the sheets up higher, wondering what it would be like to cuddle into Carlisle's arms on stormy nights.

It had nearly been three weeks of our blissful courtship, and I was so very much in love with him. Carlisle did not only have gentle hands that held mine, and caressed my face, but he possessed a much more rare and much more beautiful trait. Carlisle Cullen had gentle heart. Everything he did was done with so much care, and love, and kindness. Although the cautious part of my brain, which was growing quieter and quieter everyday, warned me that every man on Earth could be rough when they wanted to be, I was beginning to believe that excluded my Carlisle.

He was the true definition of a gentleman. He endeavoured to do everything right by me, as well as his God, and so he treated me with the utmost respect, but this didn't mean he was formal and rigid, in fact, he was comfortable and calm. Carlisle and I talked about _everything. _Every single thought that crossed my mind would interest him, every single emotion that I tried to fight, he'd listen to. It's not that he pestered them out of me, but rather, he was waiting with a listening ear whenever I needed him to be, and he never had to tell me that he cared, for me to know that he did. Carlisle and I fitted together as easily as things that just could not _be_ without each other. Ours was the epitome of romances, because he was my closest and dearest friend.

I was attracted to Carlisle's mind as much as I was attracted to his person, which was a great deal. He was the singular most handsome man I had ever laid eyes on, and he always had been. Everything I had daydreamed of as a young girl paled in comparison to the perfection of him. I was addicted to the feeling of his lips on mine, and the sensation made me lose my mind. I had no control whatsoever on the way that I behaved when he kissed me, all I knew was that our kisses never lasted long enough, and I was never close enough to him for it to be truly satisfying. I wanted him to kiss me in ways that I shouldn't have, especially with a past like mine.

Charles had kissed me like a savage many times throughout our awful marriage, so surely I knew better than to want that with Carlisle, but something told me that everything would be different. Something told me that being intimate with Carlisle like that would not be disturbing, or strange, but rather beautiful, and even more addictive than how he kissed me with chaste.

Oh, there were so many improper things I could think about Carlisle Cullen that I really shouldn't have, especially with a son who could read minds only a few thin planks of wood below me.

Mentally apologising to Edward for the nature of my thoughts, I tried to alter their course, but I couldn't stop thinking about the beautiful blonde doctor. _I suppose this is good for you Edward, your father is exceptionally good at wooing me. You'll be able to use his example in the future._

I heard Edward's dark laughter in reply, "You know, I think I'm getting used to it."

I smirked, _Are you really?_

"Yes, I can judge in your minds the moment before you … become intimate in your memories, and I've found that if I make my own thoughts loud enough, yours begin to fade somewhat. The piano helps also, it's very loud."

I laughed, _I am truly glad you've found methods of managing it. I can't imagine how hard it must be for you, especially with Carlisle and I._

"I am appreciative of the way that you both try to hide your thoughts," his soft words blended into the beautifully calming melody of the piano perfectly.

_I love that piece, Edward, did you compose it?_

"Partially. I had some help," he replied cryptically. I spent the next few moments trying to decipher his meaning, which caused him to chuckle once more and murmur, "You'll just have to be patient and find out."

I sighed and battled the all consuming curiosity, and somewhat frightening frustration that I had been struggling with lately. I had thought I'd managed to grasp control over the powerful newborn emotions that plagued my body, but opening myself up to love Carlisle with such passion, had left my control over my other emotions exceptionally weak. However, if struggling with the intensity of all that I felt was the price I had to pay to love Carlisle, I would pay it ten times over.

I turned my attention back to the ferocious storm that shook the house, wondering if Carlisle would stay at work later because of the weather. I knew he'd be safe in the dreadful conditions, but I wondered if it would be too conspicuous for him to leave in the middle of such a storm. For that reason, I hoped the clouds would clear somewhat.

After a particularly spectacular bolt of lightening sliced through the sky, the thunder ripped angrily, momentarily drowning out Edward's beautiful music. I imagined many humans struggling to sleep on a night such as this one, and wished once again to be in comfort of Carlisle's arms. The storm did not scare me, but I missed him fervently.

In the moments that followed, the storm seemed to die down somewhat, and Edward continued his beautiful composition that I found exceptionally calming. But it only took one moment to change it all.

A bolt of lightening pierced through the sky once more, but this time it came in contact with a man-made device that controlled the amount of light that flooded our home, and it took it all away.

Edward let out an ironic sounding laugh, as he stopped playing, "And the electricity has failed us."

I would have laughed at his joke, or even managed a witty retort in reply, had the sudden darkness not ruined the control I exercised over the memory that I had been holding back, which now dashed forward to the forefront of my mind.

* * *

_Columbus, Ohio_

_September 1920_

_The bathroom was small and cramped, with wooden floors and white walls. The small sink that I leaned over was impeccably clean like everything in this house - everything aside from the face of the woman in the shiny glass and the heart of the man down the stairs who called out her name._

"_Esme," his cold voice echoed up the cold walls, down the cold hall and through the cold door, "E-s-m-e," he called again, his voice taking on a sing-song-like sound because of the whiskey._

_Prohibition._

_The woman in the mirror did not scoff at the word like my internal monologue did, because a larger part of her mind was consumed by another 'p' word. It was much scarier, the fright only enhanced by the man calling my name downstairs._

_Pregnant._

_The woman in the mirror was with child. The child of a drunk, a spirit-and-dream crusher, a life pulveriser, a true and real monster. Her child. His child. Their child. My child._

_She ducked out of the mirror as I raced to the toilet once more, holding back my own hair, as I did the very thing he would be doing the next morning._

"_E-s-m-e," I could still hear him calling, even over the sound of the loud toilet flush, "Where are you?"_

_The longer I left it, the worse it would be. I could lock the door and spend the night in the bathroom, claiming I was ill… But he wasn't that stupid, he'd piece it together, that I was with child. He couldn't know. He would harm our child as he would harm me. Charles Evenson was a violent man._

_The woman reappeared in the mirror, her eyes more bloodshot than before, her hair more matted with sweat from fear, her heart beating frantically with indecision. What to do? _

_She disappeared from the mirror momentarily as I splashed my face with water, and when she reappeared her eyes were whiter than before, her expression calmer, her resolve stiffer. It did not matter what pain she would have to endure. It did not matter how much blood she would bleed. It did not matter how many bones he would break, just as long as she could keep her baby safe for one more night. Then, once he was done with her, she'd wait until he had passed out. He slept soundly and deeply when he was intoxicated. She would write him a note, tell him that she'd gone to a nearby town to purchase his favourite market food, and she would run. She would save her child. _I _would save _my _child. And he would never find us. _

_The woman took a deep breath, the weather outside the house rumbled and howled, warning her of an impending storm. The lights inside flickered, before they turned off completely, and his eerie voice echoed down the hall, "E-s-m-e, I know where you a-r-e, I'm coming to get you…"_

_The woman took another deep breath, steadying her fears, she'd done this before, she knew what to expect, but this would be the very last time. Tonight would be the very last night. _

_She disappeared out of the right side of the mirror as I made my way to the door. Opening it quietly, I stepped into the dark alley that was the hallway, the wind howled, the thunder rumbled and the man's footsteps echoed on the floor, "I'm coming to get you…" he sang hauntingly once more._

_My heart hammered. Oh, that poor woman in the mirror. _

_How I wished someone would save her. _

_Then of course, I realised someone would… She would save herself… _

_I would save me._

* * *

_Ashland, Wisconsin_

_October 1__st__, 1921_

"Esme," Edward breathed from the doorway. My head whipped around to see him, his eyes tortured with pain, he dropped to his knees, "Esme, I'm so sorry."

The room was pitch black, but I could see him perfectly well. Some vampire version of adrenaline made my movements frantic and fast.

I flew out of my bed and was kneeling in front of him in seconds, my arms wrapped around his shaking teenage shoulders.

"Edward, Edward, it's all right," I cooed.

"No," he whimpered, "It's not."

I ran my hands over his hair, and watched as it sprang stubbornly back into place, then pressed my lips to the top of his head, "It is, it truly is."

My words were truthful, _it_ was all right, and I was safe and happier than I had ever been, but part of them hid a lie. _I _wasn't all right.

His head jerked up at that thought, worry replacing the complete and utter heartbrokenness, "How do I make it better?" He whispered fervently.

I shook my head, unable to talk, the newborn intensity of the panic becoming all too much for me.

"We could go to the forest? We could hunt? Esme you are indestructible, nothing can hurt you now."

I nodded, I was fully aware of this, and I wasn't panicked because I feared an attack, or some monsters that lingered in the dark, instead I was panicked because I simply couldn't be anything else, "Forest." I whispered.

The best way to escape the haunting memories of my former life was to partake in an activity I never would have done during it. I was a vampire, and feeling like one would make the panic subside.

"Lets go," Edward murmured, standing up and tugging on my hand.

I allowed him to pull me up without any effort on his part. I followed him as he led me down the stairs and toward the door.

His hand was on the doorknob when a thought rendered me immobile.

"Carlisle," I murmured, "I promised."

"Esme, if I thought you would be all right, I would suggest we stay. If I knew where Carlisle kept the candles or the gas lamps, we would stay. But I don't. I fear that if you let your memories and your fears get a handle on you, all of the progress you've made will be out the window, and I can't let you do that to yourself, or to Carlisle."

I nodded, an all-consuming sense of desolate sadness joining the unadulterated panic in my chest, "A note, let me leave him a note."

Edward nodded briskly, and pulled me into Carlisle's office. As I wrote the few words I could manage down on the paper, I felt as though I was breaking his heart. I tried my best not to let the violent cocktail of emotions that were coursing through my body seep onto the paper.

_Carlisle,_

_Edward and I have gone for a walk. The electricity was jealous of the storm's darkness, so it has decided to refuse our constant requests of illumination, and I'm not overly partial to perpetual darkness, so we've decided to go out. Hopefully we'll be home before you, so this letter will be utterly redundant, but I'm nothing if not overly cautious. If you want to come and find us, we're planning on going to the little cove with the leafy banister, which shines silver in the moonlight. If that is not the case, I shall see you very soon, and I hope your shift went well._

_All my love,_

_E._

"You know the cove?" I asked as I placed the note on the table by the door where it would be the first thing he'd see when he arrived home.

Edward nodded, "Let's go." He paused and looked at me thoughtfully, "I love you," he murmured helplessly, truly looking like a young boy.

I crushed my face into Edward's chest, "I love you too, Edward." Sobs threatened to erupt from my body as I clung to him.

He hugged me back tightly, and I could almost feel the pain that my strong newborn emotions were bringing him, so I vowed that tonight I would somehow regain control over them.

"Let's go, now," I murmured, repeating his earlier instruction.

He pulled away, keeping my hand securely in his, and we dashed into the night.

The darkness was not like darkness to my eyes, the black colours I once would have seen were merely now only darker versions of the colours that littered these woods during the day. I could see the greens, oranges, and golds, as well as the browns of the trunks and the dead leaves. The fresh air was soaked with rain and it brought some calm and perspective with it. I loved being outside so very dearly, for Carlisle smelt like the wind with pear and cinnamon, I could almost feel him with me out there.

It was not a long run to the small lake with the leafy cove, but it seemed longer than I remembered it being. Carlisle had brought me to the particular spot only days earlier, during one of his enchanting adventures, and I loved the little cave made of leaves with a miniature lake inside it. It made me feel safe away from the rest of the world. I needed that now.

The lake was down a hill, next to a small cliff-face covered in vines and trees. It was impossible to distinguish where the vines began and where the cliff ended; they were simply one. The lake was liquid black in the darkness with shreds of silver appearing sporadically and floating atop, every time a slice of lightening pierced the sky. Edward took the lead, circling around the little lake and up to the cliff face, where he found the curtains of vines where the small lake entered the rock, and held it back for me to enter through.

"Thank you," I murmured shakily as I ducked beneath the sopping leaves, glad to be out of the torrential rain. I was careful with my footing, although I needn't have been, for my balance was impeccable, but the narrow path of dirt between the vines that were shaped as a handrail, and the black pool could be rather slippery. I made my way around the dark water and to the back of the small cove, momentarily allowing myself to be astounded once again, at the beautiful place that had naturally formed here. Jutting out of the cliff face was a stone ledge, and above the stone ledge grew a very large tree, with roots that tumbled over the edge of the ledge. The tree, and the roots were overcome with vines. The vines tangled themselves around the roots that fell on either side of the ledge and then cascaded and tumbled in every direction, forming a curtain of thick foliage around the stone shelf. Beneath the protrusion was the smallest, and narrowest section of the lake, which the vines then hugged forming a small shelter with leafy curtains.

Once I had reached the back of the cove I leaned against the rock and slid down it, until I was sitting on the damp dirt floor.

Edward joined me moments later, as I steadied my frantic breathing. Had I been human, my heart would have been thumping a million miles an hour, tears would have been oozing out of my eyes, my head would have been swirling and swimming and throbbing, and I would be wheezing cold breaths of ice. But I was a vampire, my breathing did not need to be laboured and frantic, it only was because I was still frantic inside.

Edward put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer to his side, "Is this better than the house?" He wondered.

I nodded, "Very much."

We succumbed into silence for a while, he leaving me to my thoughts, while I regretted not being able to leave him to his own. In a way, I was glad I didn't have a gift like his, and some select few of our kind, because it seemed so much easier to be plain and ordinary. Then again, there's always a small part inside that would have loved to be special and interesting. For me, that part was very, very small. I had lived my life much more concerned by art, history, nature and adventure, rather than people and society. Perhaps that was some of the reason why I found it so difficult to fit into the mould my parents made for me. I wasn't fazed by things that other people had and I did not, in fact, I was fine to live my life with only myself, but alas, it couldn't be. The only things I can recall being envious of were my friends that knew love when I did not, and the phantom woman I imagined the beautiful blonde doctor marrying. I took comfort in the likelihood of that phantom woman actually being _me_.

Edward chuckled beside me.

I looked to him and cocked an eyebrow, but he merely shrugged.

"Please," I almost begged in a whisper, fighting back the curiosity that threatened to consume the heart-crushing hopelessness because curiosity all to quickly morphed into anger.

Edward nodded, "I was just marvelling at how even the thought of Carlisle calms you down."

I managed a small smile for Edward, as the curiosity subsided and the grief came back tenfold. Cowering under its weight I shrunk into Edward embrace, _Was it this bad for you?_

He shook his head, "No."

_Why do I feel so much?_

He sighed, "You and I were changed in very different circumstances. I was unconscious before I knew that my mother had died. I knew my father was gone, but having a distant relationship with him meant that I would grieve him much less than I would grieve my mother. I didn't know I had nothing left. _You knew_. You were hopeless beyond compare, and your body was still adjusting to the changes of motherhood. I agree with Carlisle, I think you will always have a more intense way of loving things, and that's why I think these emotions are plaguing you more than I."

I repressed a growl, _But I had such good control over them before Carlisle and I…_

Edward sighed again, "Yes, but when you open yourself up to one emotion, you open yourself up to all of them."

I bit back a laugh; _Did you pick that up out of someone else's head?_

He grinned crookedly, "Being gifted may be annoying, but it does have its benefits."

"I must admit," I murmured aloud, "I'm growing exceptionally emotionally exhausted from the whiplash."

"Now _that_ is something everyone has," he chuckled, "Even me. I remember being so livid at Carlisle one moment, then practically kissing his feet the next, begging him to forgive me."

I let out the laugh that was bubbling in my chest, "I can't imagine that."

He smiled wryly once again, "But I can see that you are trying."

He was right; of course, I was picturing him on the forest floor, pressing his lips to Carlisle's shiny shoes while the good doctor begged him to stop.

"Do you think the whiplash will go with the strength? Or is it just a matter of control as is the bloodlust?" I wondered.

He considered my question for a moment, "I _think_ it will go, but you should ask Carlisle that too. He's better at all of this than I am."

I smiled tenderly, "He's older."

Edward chuckled, "I know. He's older than your great, great, great, great, great grandparents."

I pursed my lips, "Now don't you be mean, young man."

Edward smirked, "Why? Because it's vulgar?"

"No." I answered firmly, but felt nothing but tender love for my son, "Because it's rude, and you are a gentleman through and through."

He rubbed my arm laughing quietly to himself, "Thank you, Esme."

I nodded into his shoulder as I let my head find a spot to rest. His head, in turn, found a spot to rest upon mine, and he began to hum the familiarly unfamiliar tune he had been playing on the piano earlier.

"I do love that piece, Edward," I murmured.

I could hear the smile in his voice when he replied, "I thought you might."

It took me a short while to realize exactly why he thought that I would like the composition, and it was not just because he had written it, but rather because it reminded me of Carlisle. Something about the piece was so inherently _good_ that it was a necessity for he to be the inspiration.

Edward whispered, "Almost," in reply to my thoughts as the lightening pierced through the sky outside once again, but the storm inside of me had begun to calm.

The memory of the night I decided to leave Charles was persistently praying to play in the back of my head but I would not let it.

I was growing very calm there in Edward's arms, sitting in the shelter that the strange little cove provided, listening to the hard pitter-patter of the rain, and the rumble of the thunder that sounded because of the lightening that sliced through the clouds.

Time held little to no meaning to vampires. We were able to sit it one spot for a very long time as the days turned into nights and back again into days. Had I not been so desperate to see Carlisle, I may not have been aware of when the sun rose behind the clouds. The dark daylight brought with it no reprieve from the violent storm that smelt strongly of rich Earth and the beautiful scent of the leaves that had no name.

Edward inhaled deeply before lifting his head and checking his watch, "He'll be home in less than an hour," he murmured.

I smiled at the thought, glad that we would be home before him, giving me time to destroy my note and act as though there had been not a chance that he may have arrived home and found himself alone.

Edward stood up and held his hand out in an unnecessary, but gentlemanly gesture. I took it gladly, and let him lead me out of the cove and into the wild, wet weather.

"Thank you, Edward, for staying with me tonight."

He smiled over his shoulder, "I'll always be here when you need me."

Smiling, I reached up and kissed his cheek, "I love you, my son."

"And I love you too," he grinned, before dashing up the small hill and into the forest with me in tow.

The colours were more vivid when they were wet. The greens were richer; the browns were closer to black. My hopes rose and rose as we got closer and closer to the house, only to soon come crashing down.

Before Edward could hear his mind, or I could see him, I could _smell_ him. I could smell the cinnamon-pear-and-fresh-air scent that I so dearly loved, and relied upon to make me better. But today it made me worse. _He came home early, and I wasn't there._ My heart jarred. Edward squeezed my hand, in a comforting gesture that I couldn't understand because the emotional control I had regained, began to slip.

I could see him before he could see me. He sat on the porch steps with his head in his hands; his blonde hair was dark gold, and sopping wet. Every single ounce of control that Edward helped me gather throughout our quiet and peaceful night had not only slipped but was _long_ gone when I saw him there like that. His head jerked up when he heard our feet, and he was soon standing, his eyes searched the forest frantically for the first visual sign of our approach. I'm not exactly sure what he saw when his eyes fixed on me, but he must have guessed exactly why Edward and I had left the house, because I could see his fears confirming in his eyes, as I fought back the overwhelming urge to cry. Sobs gurgled in my chest and strange sounds began to stir in my throat as I bolted toward my safe haven. His arms opened for me to enter when I ran out from the shelter of the trees. I was running so fast with my newborn strength, I almost knocked him over, but he was strong, he stepped one foot back to steady himself and clung onto me for dear life.

I knew he and Edward were having a silent conversation, because Carlisle's lips were not yet pressed to the top of my head. There was a short moment of them talking, until Carlisle's arms tightened around me, and his soft lips finally found my hair. Edward walked passed us, touching my shoulder lightly as he went, and made his way into the house.

We stood outside in the rain for a moment, holding tightly on to one another before Carlisle sweetly whispered my name, "Esme, love, lets go inside, out of the rain."

I nodded, still repressing the heavy sobs that thickened my throat, and he helped me out of the rain. He didn't stop walking when we reached the kitchen, nor the hallway, and he picked me up in his arms when we reached the stairs. Half-hugging, half-carrying me up the steps, he placed sweet kisses across my forehead, and I barely wondered why we were going upstairs, caring only about the fact that I was in his arms once again.

He set me down on my feet next to the linen cupboard in the big bathroom. He opened the cupboard where we kept the towels, just as he had done after my very first hunt, and removed two. He draped one over his shoulder, and the other one over both of mine, it was so large, it was almost like a cape.

He looked at me cautiously, "Esme, may I take down your hair to dry it?"

I nodded, holding the towel with one hand and reaching up to remove the pins with the other, his hands moved to aid mine, and with our joint effort, my brown curls were cascading down my back in no time. He grabbed another towel from the cupboard and began to dry my hair with it, and then he handed it to me, while he dried his own hair with the towel over his shoulder. I wrapped my hair up in the fabric and let it sit atop my head.

He smiled slightly at the sight as he dried his arms.

"Come with me," he murmured, reaching for my free hand with his, "Let's go upstairs."

He led me down the hall, and then picked me up and lifted me into the attic; I even managed a smile at that. The crushing weight on my heart was lifting ever so slightly, now that he was by my side. When he pulled himself through the hole, he grabbed my hand once again and led me over to the window, where he pulled me into a warm embrace once more.

Pulling away he searched my eyes, "Esme, are you all right?"

I met his gaze and searched his golden orbs too, they were filled with sadness and worry, and I was suddenly reminded of why I'd been upset when I'd seen him sitting on the porch alone. The drowning sensation returned, and threatened to take my heart away once again.

"I…" Sobs began to build in my chest, "I'm sorry," I chocked, his expression turned confused, "I wasn't here when you came home from work."

He closed his eyes and sighed, then sat down and pulled me with him. I wrapped both of my arms firmly around his body, and he draped one towel-covered arm around my shoulders. He placed feather-light kisses all over my forehead once more, as the tearless sobs wracked my chest.

"I knew you would come back, you left a note," he whispered into my skin.

"But I promised," I choked.

I felt him nod, "It was more important for you to feel all right, Esme."

"No," I growled, "No."

He pulled back, and coaxed my eyes into meeting his, "Why?" His features were set in the confused expression I had come to adore.

"Because it's important for you to feel all right too," I my voice was stubbornly teetering on the edge of hysteria, "We can't all tread carefully around me because of my past and not even stop to consider you and yours. Coming home alone… after so long… alone!" My voice gave way and trailed off in a high-pitched wail as I plunged into the depths of hysteria. Pain stabbed at me from all directions, and I was barely aware of Carlisle's sweet voice murmuring things to me, and his arms wrapping around me as he pulled me back against his chest.

He took the towel out of my hair, tousling it slightly to dry it some more before he rested his chin on the top of my head and rubbed my back until I had calmed down enough to hear him, "Shhh, shhh, it's all right, you're all right, I'm all right, it's all right, shhh, shhh."

He moved his head and placed a few stray kisses on my hair as I calmed down even more, and began to nod into his chest.

"My love, when I arrived home I was saddened not to find you there waiting for me, as I have so foolishly come to expect, but I saw your letter there. Your letter that was so outrageously and so beautifully you, that I could not help but be uplifted my your truths. I knew you would be back soon, and I did not once feel as though you and Edward had abandoned me." His voice was low, and sincere as he whispered into my hair, "I began to realize not long after, that the dark house may have alarmed you more than you were letting on, and I grew worried. You do not know how relieved I am to have you here, to comfort you in my arms, to shower you in my love," he placed a few more kisses on the top of my head, "And to have you know that you are safe. I am grateful to Edward for taking you out, I only wish that I could have been there to do it myself."

I nodded into his chest, and spoke through the sobs that continued to plague my body; "You do comfort me when you're not here. I find the thought of you at the hospital, helping people, to be very comforting."

His arms tightened for a short while, "You have no idea how much that means to me to hear you say that."

I shrugged, my voice becoming clearer and steadier, "That's one of the reasons I love you, because your heart knows no limits for care."

He loosened his arms and pulled back to look into my eyes once more. My body was almost hiccoughing with sobs. He wore a small smile on his lips, and his eyes were alight with a tender and loving glow, "As yours knows no limits for love."

I managed a shaky smile, internally cursing the frustrating mood swings for ruining a moment that would have been so romantic by making me sob harder.

He smiled a little at this, and bent in to press his lips to my cheek, and then the other cheek, my nose, my forehead, and finally my lips. This kiss was tender and sweet like his expression, and so very, very comforting.

"I'm so sick of being a newborn!" I whimpered when he pulled away.

He chuckled lovingly, "Oh, my darling, I know. It won't last for very much longer."

"The mood swings are getting worse, and worse. _I'm_ even struggling to keep up with them."

He reached a hand up to run his fingers through my long wet hair, managing somehow to morph the movement into cradling my cheek, "I know you don't believe me when I say it, but you truly are doing so well."

"I was completely all right earlier, I was watching the storm and enjoying it. I think it pulled a few boards loose, for a moment I thought we had shutters," – he chuckled at that – "and then the power went out. I think it was mostly shock, but I remembered the night I discovered that I was expecting… The night before I ran away, and the power went out while I was in the bathroom… and the house was so cold and everything echoed. Edward was with me in the blink of an eye, and I knew everything was well. _Logically_, I was safe and happy and nothing could hurt me, not because I'm indestructible, but rather because I have you and Edward. Yet still, _irrationally_, I was drowning in dread and fear, I needed to be out of here and I don't know why… That scares me, not understanding myself."

He traced my cheekbone with his thumb, and considered me tenderly, as I leaned into his hand; "You did the right thing, leaving. It would have made it worse for you to stay here, I'm proud of you for going. When we're learning control we must always remove ourselves from the situation before it becomes too much to bear. I love you too much to see you hurting, but sometimes emotions cannot simply be controlled. There are things that you must allow yourself to grieve every once in a while, my love. Pain that doesn't always go away, we have acknowledge it, and embrace it, and then is when we find that we can manage it."

I nodded, my chin trembling. He smiled another small smile before pulling back into his arms, "It's okay to upset. Sadness always makes happiness seem sweeter."

"I… I always thought that…" I choked out, "I always thought that pain and time were like magnets… Where one went, the other would invariably have to follow sooner or later… And the thing about time is… it passes… so naturally… as magnets do… pain follows… But sometimes it takes a long time to go."

He kissed my hair again, long and soft, "You're exactly right. And I will be here to help you through this, both while the pain remains and also when it's gone, because I love you. From always to forever."

For the first time since the storm began – including the time Edward and I were at the little cove – the storm outside the windows was the only storm that raged, because as he usually had a habit of doing, Carlisle Cullen saved me once again.

And I was at peace.

* * *

_A.N. Hello there once again! Short note this time, I promise: This chapter I really wanted to highlight that Esme is still a newborn, (and no where near as good at being a newborn as Bella) so she would definitely struggle with her emotions in the beginning, but perhaps learn to shut them out, and when she allowed herself to be in love with Carlisle (even if their kisses are completely the most innocent thing ever – I mean, they're Carlisle and Esme… I don't think you can get any more moral than them) she would struggle again. What's that quote… When you open yourself up to love, you open yourself up to all kinds of suffering? __(Or something like that)_

_That was the basis of this chapter… Next chapter we'll see it all begin to wrap up before we can move on to Esme's first – intentional – challenges with humans. Yay! _

_Thanks again for all the reads and reviews! Much love!_


	33. Some People Fall (For A Reason)

_Chapter Thirty-Three: Some People Fall (For A Reason)_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, October 1921_

_Esme_

The rising sun was filling the house with dim light, but the thick haze outside the windows was preventing the sunshine from being brighter. I was in the washroom, humming away, finishing washing the laundry. The boys had finally relented and allowed me to assume one of the roles of homemaker. Although I didn't need to cook, nor clean very often, I liked to be of use somehow.

Carlisle and Edward had refused to allow me to clean their dirty clothes for a very long time, up until one unusually sunny day when Edward was supposed to make a trip to the laundry lady in town, I managed to persuade them to let me take care of it. Carlisle had insisted that he do it first, but there was no way I was letting him clean my underclothes, so I informed him that I would be exceptionally unhappy if I were not allowed to help at all. Never one to displease me, he relented, but both he and Edward had been dubious to allow me to clean _their_ underclothes. I assured them that I had cleaned it all before. With similar sighs they shrugged and surrendered their precious clothes to me. They soon realised it was much quicker and easier to clean the clothes at home, and gave up protesting my new role, instead complying with my requests that they leave their clothes in the basket for me to clean when they needed. I was happy with this new development. I liked to tell myself that I was somehow taking care of my boys.

Edward was in the living room, murmuring to himself. He had dedicated many hours to his new theory of how to block voices out. Our house was so far out of town, that he was able to avoid the humdrum of voices of the population, but this, in turn, made Carlisle's and mine much louder.

Hanging the last pair of socks up on the makeshift washing line, I wandered down the hallway and stopped at the foot of the stairs, in the doorway to the sitting room. I stifled a giggle as I caught a glimpse of my beloved son. His legs were dangled over the arm of the lounge with his feet clothed in his favourite holey socks. His hands were balled into fists and rubbing at his eyes as he strung sentences lacking any sense together in mumbles.

"Balderdash, whiplash, radishes, tree roots, fetching, spiffy, holey socks… No! Not holey socks! That wasn't one of my thoughts. Balderdash, whiplash, oranges!"

"I thought it was radishes?" I teased from the doorway.

"Well, now it's oranges," he grumbled, not moving his hands away from his eyes.

"Is it working?" I wondered, wandering into the room and taking the seat opposite him.

He sighed and lifted his balled fists from his face, "Not as well as I'd hoped, I'll admit."

He swung his legs over the arm and repositioned himself into an upright-seated pose. He reached to the table between us and picked up a deck of cards, holding them up to me with a cocked eyebrow.

I nodded, agreeing to his unspoken question. He began to deal.

"What is balderdash?" I wondered.

He smirked, tossing a card my way then his, then mine again, "I find it hard to believe you've never come across it... But I'll leave you to your literary ignorance."

I narrowed my eyes, "Don't be such a pear-headed malt-worm, Edward."

"Hmmm, I can't tell if you're imitating Shakespeare or Carlisle," he laughed, as he put the remainder of the deck between us, and flipped one card over.

"Are you not always telling me that I should stop laughing at my own jokes?" I asked as I picked up my cards, and began to order them.

"I believe in double standards," Edward smirked.

I laughed humourlessly, "Of course."

I declined the first card, which of course, he knew I would because he knew the cards I held in my hand, and he declined it too. I picked up and eight to go with my nine and ten, and discarded a two. Not being a mind reader, I didn't know what he picked up but he ridded his hand of an ace. That wasn't much help.

It was easier to play Edward at cards, because there was an element of luck to it. He couldn't pluck my future moves out of my head as he could in chess, and have an advantage that way. He could only refrain from discarding the cards he knew I needed, which could be just as detrimental to him as it was to me. He won in the end though, but it was a close game.

"Carlisle will be home soon," Edward murmured, checking his watch, and then grinned, "Good. We'll show you how we usually play Gin Rummy."

I raised an eyebrow, "It's different?"

Edward snickered, "Well, yes. Carlisle had never played Gin nor Rummy before he created me, so I taught him them both… except I never informed him that Gin was the same as Gin Rummy, so we play it a little differently."

I pushed away the confusion that began to infiltrate my system with patience, "All right," I sighed; the patience had made room for anticipation.

Edward smiled sympathetically my way, and asked to swap seats, "We can't really play sitting next to each other, and I'm sure you'd more rather be next to him than I would…"

We played another short round of cards while we waited, and I couldn't curb the excitement that jolted through my system when I heard his tyres on the road.

Carlisle sped down the driveway and into the garage – my boys liked speed – and was at the door in an instant.

"Good morning," he called, shutting the front door behind him, and hanging his hat up on the rack.

"Gin!" Edward grinned at me, "Oh, good morning Carlisle, I think I win."

I sighed, "Good morning," I called to Carlisle, who was rounding the corner smiling to himself, "And yes, you do Edward."

I looked back to Carlisle, "Did you have a pleasant shift?"

His smile widened and he nodded, "It was eventful and successful, the best kind of night. Did you have a nice night?" He wondered as he took his seat on the lounge next to me, his arm automatically reaching out to wrap around my shoulders.

"Dandy. Apparently I'm a pear-headed malt-worm," Edward smirked.

"And I'm literarily ignorant, so I must discover a dictionary that will inform me the definition of balderdash."

Carlisle chuckled, "Balderdash," he breathed, "It's been a while since I've heard someone say that."

Edward cocked his head to the side, "People say it frequently in class."

"The students, or teachers?" Carlisle smiled; amused.

Edward grinned, "The teachers."

The boys laughed, and I was left wondering what was so humorous.

"I hear more patients saying baloney these days, rather than balderdash," Carlisle rubbed his forehead warily, "It's all the young men that come in from automobile crashes. It's the flappers I'm told, they're too distracting."

I felt my brow furrow, "The flappers? Aren't they young girls that haven't debuted yet?"

"That's the archaic definition of it," Edward grinned.

I pursed my lips, "Yes, well, I don't get out much."

Both Edward and Carlisle laughed at that, "We'll change that soon, love. I think you'll be ready."

I looked to him apprehensively, "Not overly soon, I hope."

He kissed my forehead, "When it feels right to you."

I nodded, "It will be nice to see the world again, it's only been six months, but I feel like I don't know it anymore."

Edward pursed his lips, "Things are changing very fast. You'll catch up, just don't go full flapper on us."

I cocked my head at Edward, as the confusion threatened to overcome me once more, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Carlisle shoot Edward a reproving look.

"What do you mean, Edward?" I wondered, "Full flapper?"

He shifted awkwardly, "Well, flappers are young women who like to dance to jazz music, and they cut their hair, and they wear short dresses, and go on unchaperoned dates, and they protest corsets –"

"All right," I nodded interrupting, Carlisle didn't need to know that I was more than a few of those things, "I think I'm a little old to be a _flapper _Edward, how about you two show me your version of Gin Rummy?"

Edward nodded eagerly, glad to be out of the tricky situation he had found himself in, and Carlisle just chuckled to himself, ever calm in all situations.

One thing did bother me though. Edward began to deal out one pack of cards to himself and to Carlisle, while Carlisle dealt out another.

"Women actually cut their hair?" I wondered.

Carlisle nodded.

"Cut their hair, _short_?"

He nodded again, turning around to look at me curiously.

"Cut their hair, _very_ short?"

He smirked and nodded another time.

"_How_ short?"

He shrugged, "Some have shorter hair than mine."

I felt my eyes bulge, "_What?_" I whispered in disbelief, "Not everyone though?"

He shook his head, "Many of them are very young."

"I saw pictures in some of my magazines, but I thought they must have just pinned it up… Not cut it off." Part of me was mortified; I imagined my mothers face as she watched these flapper women walk down the street. It was twisted in complete disgust.

My hand automatically went up to touch my own hair as I imagined cutting it short. What a ghastly idea. Carlisle must have been thinking the same thing, for he straightened almost immediately, "My darling," he murmured, reaching out for my hand, "As much as I recommend we move with the times, I would really ignore this particular trend, if I were… a woman." He gulped.

I raised a brow, "Do you not think that I would suit short hair?"

Edward chuckled at Carlisle's predicament, I'll admit, any answer to my question would put him in a difficult position.

He sighed, "Of course you would, but I'd rather you keep your hair long. It will never grow back, and I'm exceptionally partial to it… although you never wear it down," he murmured the last part but it sounded more like a mutter, as he turned back to the table and finished dealing.

I sighed, "And you know why, mister."

He flicked me a grin, and I watched Edward roll his eyes. I narrowed mine; I just missed something there…

I watched the boys shuffle two piles, and deal out two hands each.

I cocked my head to the side, "So you play Gin Rummy and basic Rummy simultaneously?"

Carlisle raised an eyebrow in confusion, I shot a glance at Edward, _You never told him that you lied?_

"I think that's a particularly strong word to use in this context."

A bemused grin began to spread on Carlisle's face as he looked between the two of us.

_Well you have to tell him now. Apologise._

Edward snickered, "All right, all right. Carlisle, I may have neglected to tell you the entire truth about Gin Rummy."

Carlisle let out a laugh, "I suppose I should have expected as much."

"Yes, I do apologise, I remember being in a particularly foul mood and I thought it might me enjoyable too fool you. I liked…" Edward trailed off, looking for the right words.

"You liked having the upper hand," I pursed my lips disapprovingly at him.

He nodded remorsefully, but I could see the amusement burning behind his yes, "Yes, that's true. I am sorry."

Carlisle smiled, "You're forgiven. The game you taught me as Gin, is truly Gin Rummy?"

Edward nodded, "Yes, so I suppose we play Gin Rummy, Rummy."

"I like it," Carlisle picked up his cards and began to sort through them. He held seven in one hand and managed ten in the other. "It gives you less time to peek."

Chuckling, they began the game. There were two stockpiles, and two discard piles in the middle as well as two hands for every player. On the left hand side the boys played classic Rummy; on the right hand side they played Gin. While Edward was drawing a card for Rummy, Carlisle would be doing the same for Gin. It was very entertaining to watch, for they moved at vampire speed. The round was not over until Gin and Rummy had both been said, and the game didn't end until one player reached one thousand points.

"Vampire Gin Rummy," Edward grinned, "The better way to play."

Carlisle laughed, "You should foray into advertising Edward, put those slogans with some music and they'll put you on the radio."

"Do you really think they'll start advertising on the radio?" Edward wondered.

Carlisle nodded, leaning back into the lounge, "I'm sure they'll do anything they can to encourage consumerism, especially now that the recession has ended."

Edward sighed, leaning back into his chair as Carlisle had, "The war's over, the recession is over, what next?"

Carlisle shrugged, he had no reply.

"If nothing comes along, people will go mad," Edward pursed his lips.

"They're already starting to. It's not been three months since the recession ended and you should just see the younger generation and how they're beginning to flock out in droves. It's only the bold few now, but I can see it in their friend's eyes, everyone will be out soon… partying, drinking, smoking…"

Edward laughed, "Be aware, that Esme and I are still part of this _younger generation, _that you speak of dearest father."

I shook my head, "No. I'm too old."

"You should hear the music," he murmured, his eyes faraway.

"I like that song," Edward pretended to be offended, "I don't think your seventeenth century ears are quite able to appreciate the beauty of jazz."

Carlisle raised his eyebrows, "Jazz, is that what they call it?"

"You can't truly pretend that you don't know that," Edward narrowed his eyes at his father, who shrugged.

"I tend to listen only to my patients aliments, not their preferences in music."

Edward shook his head in disbelief, "And to think you have studied music."

Carlisle laughed full-heartedly, "I am eagerly awaiting your next jab at my age now, son."

Edward pursed his lips and nodded, "That does remind me, I've been meaning to ask… How old were you, _exactly_, when opera originated?"

Carlisle grinned, "I'm not sure _exactly_, but I'm guessing that I was around negative forty-three."

Edward's lips twitched, as he fought back the laughter, "I was truthfully expecting that to be a larger age gap."

The boys dissolved into laughter as I watched on fondly, failing to find the extent of humour in the situation that they did.

I decided it must have been a gender thing. This made Edward laugh even more exuberantly.

I shook my head fondly and kissed Carlisle on the cheek, "I'm going to check the washing."

He nodded through his chuckles and then went back to joking about his age. For exceptionally intelligent beings, Carlisle and Edward found humour in the strangest of places. It was endearing, yet somewhat confusing, perhaps their minds worked on a completely different frequency to mine, and they were laughing at the underlying philosophical meaning of their jokes that I didn't understand. Then again, perhaps they really were just joking about Carlisle's childhood in the sixteen hundreds. I supposed it was feasible.

The washing was still wet, as I knew it would be, but I needed to make myself useful while the boys had time to themselves. I begrudged stealing Carlisle away from Edward all the time, for the boy needed his father and mentor in ways that I couldn't truly understand. Although Edward truly looked to Carlisle as his father, and Carlisle truly looked at Edward as his son, they were the best of friends. I would not deny them that.

When I re-entered the sitting room, the boys were in an in-depth conversation about something called 'Isletin,' Carlisle grinned up at me when I walked back in, and I couldn't help but grin widely back at him. I was as happy to see him again, as I was that he was happy to see me.

Ducking into the study I found the book I had been reading earlier, with one of the few Sherlock Holmes stories that I hadn't read in it. Happy with the prospect of a new mystery to solve, I rejoined the boys in the sitting room. Carlisle shifted subconsciously when I sat down, making room for me by his side, and then waiting openly for me to decide how I would sit, all the while telling Edward about some man named Fred, another named Best and a coin toss. Interesting.

Feeling somewhat playful, I pressed my back against Carlisle's side, and put my shoe-less feet up on the couch. There was a momentary pause in the boys' discussion as Carlisle turned to look at me. His expression was lovingly amused. Edward let out a chuckle, and I gave them both my very best look of innocence. Carlisle laughed and shrugged, slipping his arm beneath mine, between the couch and I, then opened his hand up facing me; with a giggle I placed my book on it. He could be my book rest today.

As though no silliness had ensued, Carlisle resumed telling Edward about a man who was now named 'Banting.'

Edward asked few questions of his father, as Carlisle animatedly told him of some grand new discovery, and I plunged back into the London of last century.

I tuned the boys out as I read, preferring to be absorbed into the world of Holmes' fiction, so it was no surprise that I was unaware of Carlisle and Edward's discussion coming to a close.

It was Carlisle's voice, very close to my ear that pulled be out from the book's universe.

"Which one are you reading?" His voice was low, quiet, unbelievably heavenly and somehow sensual as it sent shivers down my spine. I gasped, and he chuckled, I could imagine Edward rolling his eyes.

"Dancing Men," I murmured.

"Have you caught the culprit, yet?" He wondered, I could hear the smile still in his voice.

I shook my head, although my answer wasn't entirely true, I didn't want to share my suspicions, and then get them wrong. I knew he would think nothing of it, but I didn't particularly like feeling foolish.

"Truly?" He wondered.

I nodded.

"All right," he kissed the top of my head.

I heard Edward scoff, "Come now, Esme. There is a definite possibility of you being correct."

I sighed but did not let my eyes wander from the page, "Must you pester, Edward?"

"Yes," he replied matter-of-factly, "I must."

Anger began to build in my body, but I fought it with great effort, "I think you should follow your father's example and leave me be when I don't feel like sharing."

"So you will tell us at the end if you were correct? How should we know that you're not lying?"

I looked to him then, my anger and frustration boiling in my eyes, "Why ever would I do that? Does it truly matter that much that you must know? You already know. I don't understand why it is important."

Carlisle rubbed my arm with his free hand, "It's not, love. I do apologise for upsetting you."

I let out a chagrin filled breath as the sadness began to flood the anger, "You haven't upset me, Carlisle. I'm merely blowing it all out of proportion."

Edward rolled his eyes and fell back into his seat, folding his arms.

"Edward," Carlisle's voice was firm, "That is enough."

"When is she ever going to have confidence if we constantly let her doubt herself?"

I raised my eyebrows at him; he was purposefully excluding me from the conversation about myself while I was in the room. There was no excuse; that was just rude. He ignored me, and raised his eyes to challenge Carlisle.

"Edward," he warned, "Stop."

"We should take Esme into town next week," Edward suggested nonchalantly, yet coldly.

I froze.

"Edward!" Carlisle scolded, "Esme is only six months old. We can not force her into this."

"I was in Chicago at three months old." Edward countered. I understood then that this was not personal, he was merely looking for a debate.

"You and Esme are not the same people, Edward." Carlisle reminded him gently.

"So what is your grand theory for why she can't handle her blood lust as well as the both of us?" Edward's reply was snarky. I don't think he realised exactly how much his words would hurt me before he spoke them out loud, but I felt sadness engulf me as his words stabbed at my heart.

Gently I closed my book, and moved to stand, but Carlisle's arms held me in place, "Edward, apologise."

Carlisle's grip loosened, allowing me to leave if I wanted to, but the truth was, I didn't want to be away from him.

"Esme," Edward murmured, his voice filled with remorse, "I apologise, I didn't consider what meanings could be taken from my words. I meant you no disrespect. I am sorry."

I nodded, I loved Edward, nothing could change that, and I knew he had a temper, I knew he sometimes forgot to think of how others would perceive his words before he spoke them, but yet, it still hurt.

"I understand, Edward," I murmured, "I would like you to respect that I _am _not as good as you are at this, but I _am_ trying my best. I'm not lacking as much confidence as you may think," I managed a small smile, "I didn't hurt Brinkley and Lola."

Edward nodded, and offered me a small smile back.

"You are right about my not having confidence in my silly little guesses on what will happen in these silly little books, but I'd hate to feel foolish for guessing the wrong thing."

"We wouldn't think you foolish," he murmured.

"I realize that, I truly do… But I would." I closed my eyes, and leaned back against Carlisle, "I forgive you, Edward, and I love you."

"Thank you, and I love you also," I could hear the small smile in his voice, and I knew his regret was sincere.

There was silence for a moment, as Carlisle placed a gentle kiss on my hair, and I assumed that he was telling Edward something silently.

The frustration began to build inside of me as the minutes passed while I sat in silence. Listening to the ticking of the clock made it worse, but the boys silence ensured that it was the only thing that I could hear.

Out of desperation and with a little huff, I blurted out my predictions for the book, "There were three bullet holes, two bullet wounds and two bullets missing, so naturally there had to be a third person present. This person is invariably he who is sending the letters in code. The fact that he's sending the letters in code implies that they know each other and have a history together. A business deal gone wrong, perhaps? Doubtful. Yes, she mentioned 'very disagreeable associations' but the assailant would have killed the victim on the first night, not repeatedly sent her letters. The relationship must be more intimate then. A family member? Maybe. But then, family is more inclined to be direct. My best guess is that it was a previous romantic interest who has a dark past but not all dark intentions. We can safely assume that the great detective has discovered exactly how to read the code, and is not alarmed by the contents of the letters up until receiving the final one, so therefore the letters increased in dark nature. This brings me to believe that the writer was trying to persuade and then bribe or blackmail the victim. If it was a past lover, then the writer would likely be asking her to return to him, but the victim would be reluctant to leave her husband, and thus, when the writer of the letters appeared at her house and her husband was waiting for him, he would have shot the man, and the man would have shot back, then fled. That accounts for the missing bullet, and one of the two bullets out of the gun that was found. The second bullet would make the second wound, the woman's wound. Self inflicted. If she saw her husband dead and dead because of her, she wouldn't want to live without him or with the knowledge of what she'd brought about. So she shot herself. The guilty party is an unnamed man who had probably previously cropped up in a minor role."

The boys were quiet once I finished, so I picked the book back up and resumed reading, somewhat disinterested in their reply. No doubt they knew if I was wrong or right. It was after that short silence that Carlisle pressed his lips to my head for a long moment, and then murmured into my hair, "As usual, you're correct. I do apologise my dear, but I knew you had it right, just from watching you."

This piqued my interest, "Hmm?"

He chuckled, "You stop breathing, and flick the paper of the next page between your fingers, anxious to turn it and confirm your suspicions. Yet, if you're unsure of the culprit, you read normally."

I hadn't realised he'd be quite so perceptive when it came to me, he must watch me when I'm not looking. That was quite flattering, really. I couldn't complain, after all, I did have a habit of staring at him while he did things. I shouldn't be all that surprised by him noticing me, it was his job to be perceptive, and observe the small symptoms of disease and disorder. He loved to learn things, and if he loved me, naturally he'd love to learn things about me.

I silently chided myself for being so daft. I smiled into my book, but pretended to act miffed, "Well now I know the ending," I grumbled. He didn't believe me for a second, chucking, and kissing my hair again; he sparked a new conversation with Edward. It was something about Ireland… Edward had an odd passion for Ireland's freedom. I didn't understand it, nor did Carlisle truly, be we indulged him. He was, nevertheless, our son.

When I had finished reading my book I made my way upstairs to continue with some sketches of the house I had begun. I loved to draw our home because there was so very much character to it. Recently, however, I had begun to realize that there was something very wrong with it...

The sound of a pen scratching on paper distracted me from my thoughts. I was accustomed to the sound of Carlisle writing away, but not Edward, and I could tell immediately that it was he who was writing feverishly downstairs. The boys had stopped conversing aloud, so I concluded that they must have been having a silent conversation. They often had one-way discussions, but rarely ever did they communicate in complete silence, I was smart enough to realize that they were talking about me.

I tried to ignore the scratching of the secrets by submerging myself in my sketches, but when I heard Edward's familiar huff of annoyance followed by his quiet call, "I'm going out," my curiosity got the better of me.

I wandered into the study soon after Edward had left, and found Carlisle sitting on the chaise. He looked exceptionally upset. He sat leaning forward, with his head in his hands, and his legs wide apart. He didn't look up when I walked in, but I knew he could see me.

I wandered over to his desk and found his medical bag; I heard his head left from his hands in curiosity. I do suppose it was rather vulgar of me to go through his possessions without first asking permission, but permission would have ruined the whole thing. Finding his stethoscope I wrapped it around my neck and turned around, he smiled slightly at the sight, and his eyes followed me as I made my way to his side, sitting in the spare room on the chaise next to him.

"So, Doctor Cullen, what seems to be the problem this rainy evening?"

He let out a small laugh, but shook his head and remained bent over. I waited a while for his reply, before his pain hurt me too much.

"Carlisle, please don't shake your head," I murmured.

"I'm all right, love." His voice was low, and unconvincing.

"Was it something Edward said?" I wondered, while my internal monologue repeatedly said: _don't pester. _"Pray tell," I whispered.

He sighed, and straightened up, his sad eyes gazing into mine. I lifted my hand and it found his, he took it gladly.

"Yes, Edward and I were talking," he murmured, but did not move to continue.

"Is that why he left?" I wondered.

He nodded.

"Is it bad?"

He shook his head.

"Will you tell me?"

He nodded again.

"Should I just wait patiently?"

He chuckled, "I am gathering my thoughts. Edward has thrown me somewhat."

I sighed, "He does that."

Carlisle raised an eyebrow, "Hmmm?"

"Edward has a good heart, he's caring and thoughtful, but he doesn't always seem to make the best decisions to do with how to go about things."

Carlisle considered this and nodded, "Edward was worried about our relationship impacting with your progress."

My dead heart jolted with panic, "Pardon me?"

Carlisle squeezed my hand, "He was merely concerned that it's adversely impacting your progress."

My brow furrowed, "He assumes that progress is more important to me than you are. I disagree."

Carlisle, however, did not agree with me… nor did he disagree either. He searched my face, and I'm not sure what he was looking for, or if he found it. He couldn't possibly want me to go away and work on my control until I was ready to come back and be his equal, could he?

He reached up to brush as strand of hair back behind my ear, "Edward has a very unique way of seeing things. He has a tendency to struggle accepting that he doesn't have access to all answers. His mind turns more readily to assume that a negative outcome will be more likely than a positive one. He often fails to appreciate all aspects of the situation, especially those that don't readily present themselves to him. He tries very hard to do the right thing, even if his view of the right thing isn't the same as everyone else's."

My eyes fell from his and fixed upon our hands, "Do you agree with him?"

He coaxed my eyes back up to his and shook his head, "Perhaps it's selfish, but I love you too much to think I can't help in some way or another."

I let his words sink in, and tried to use them to clear the confusion that fogged my mind. Was he only sharing his conversation with Edward with me, and not trying to tell me something about us?

"So you _don't_ want me to leave?" I wondered.

He blinked blankly for a moment, "What?"

"Well if you… if you had thought this was too much for me to handle, I'd… I'd understand," I wouldn't understand, "It'd be best if I go…"

"Esme, you're not making any sense. Do you doubt that I love you? That's impossible. I know you don't believe in God, or souls, but I do. And I have finally found an equal for my soul in you."

I hadn't considered doubting that he loved me but I knew I was not his equal, I pursed my lips, "Carlisle, I'm not your –"

"Don't." He shook his head, "Don't say you're not my equal. You are." His golden eyes burned into mine with pure sincerity.

I felt determination swell in my chest, "I don't feel like I am, but I'm going to try my best to be. I'm going to try my best to be the best person that I can be."

"I am not perfect," he murmured, stroking my hand with his thumb.

"I know," I smiled a small smile, "You have your flaws. I just happen to love them. Some people might be irritated by your insatiable curiosity, but I love your questions, and your inquisitive heart. Some might be upset that you are so selfless; you think nothing of spending every day at the hospital, curing and helping strangers, but the thought of you at the hospital in your lab coat, with your stethoscope and your charts makes me _so proud. _My memories of you as a doctor are the happiest memories of my life, you were so kind and you gave me hope. There is nothing I love more than the thought of you giving people hope.  
"I don't care that loving you might make me more vulnerable to these strong emotions, at least I'm not struggling so much with my bloodlust. No one is dying by this struggling, and I am happier than I have ever been, if you are happy too –"

"You have no idea how happy I am," he whispered.

"Then please, please don't regret this."

"I don't regret this, my love. I only hate to see you suffering so."

I stroked his cheek with my hand, "Not all of these emotions make me suffer, Carlisle," I murmured, my voice was hot and heavy, "It's all worth it."

"It is?" he asked dubiously, his own voice was low and husky, the sound of which made my stomach flip in anticipation.

I nodded; my body was smouldering and sparking, like lightening and fire, "And anyway," my voice was barely a murmur, "Some people fall for a reason," I quoted my sixteen-year-old self, subconsciously shifting closer to him, as he leaned forward slightly, "I'd be much more than content to spend the remainder of eternity believing that you were mine."

I heard him exhale a long breath that was almost a whimper or a moan, and some intuitive spark in my brain informed me that his self-control had probably just left his body with that unbelievably alluring breath. His hand slid beneath my bun at the back of my head, the other one dropped my hand and pulled my waist closer to him; I went willingly. His lips claimed mine for a fraction of a second, and the kiss itself was chaste like the rest of them, but there was an underlying burning passion behind it, so I was not surprised when the next time our lips met the intensity had increased an amount that was immense. My hands were in his hair, and my legs were moving on top of his, until I was sitting sideways in his lap. The stethoscope around my neck would have been crushed between our bodies had he not thrown it to the floor before my body pressed flush against his. How many times had I dreamed of kissing him this way, with such uninhibited passion and intensity? My imagination, as usual, had not done it justice. I melted into him as though I was liquid, and my chest swelled with unbelievable amounts of love, while the rest of me was attacked by lust. He tilted his head to the side, deepening the kiss, and I felt my jaw relax, welcoming him in.

The taste of cinnamon and pears with his very unique fresh air scent filled my senses in the most overwhelming of ways. I could feel myself pressing closer to him, although there was not much closer that I could get. His hand that was weaved in my hair was strong, yet gentle as it pulled my face closer to his, and his hand at my waist had me trapped in a place I had dreamed of being for years. Our passionate kiss was of the kind that would have stopped my mother's heart if she'd known, but I could not find any part of my mind that saw wrong in our kiss. I only wanted more.

Abruptly, after my leg had brushed the front of his trousers, our kiss came to an end, and he was standing by the fireplace the next instant, looking away from me, his hand gripped onto the shelf for support.

I bit my lip apprehensively, and tucked my feet beneath me, while I watched him steady his breathing. I didn't bother trying to steady mine, it was erratic, and I liked it that way.

He cleared his throat after sometime, and slowly turned around to face me, his eyes that were gold only moments ago, were now a smouldering onyx, and a part of my spacious mind wondered in mine were too.

He took a deep breath, "Esme," he murmured, his voice was still slightly husky, "Please forgive me, I acted intolerably so."

I couldn't help the small smile that spread across my face, but I shook my head, "Only if you'll forgive me also."

He closed his eyes and shook his head, "You're not to blame."

"I was just as willing a participant as you," I murmured quietly.

When he reopened his eyes and met mine, sincerity lightened them somewhat, "I _will _court you properly, Miss Platt."

I sighed, and tried to hide the disappointment in my tone, "I know." I should want him to court me properly, as a lady would, but some innate vampire instinct told me that there was no need for formalities.

He managed a smile at that, "But never doubt the intensity of my love for you."

I shook my head, and promised, "Never."

He slowly made his way back over to my side, and reclaimed the seat next to me, "I would never want you to leave." He spoke with such reverence, I felt silly to have ever considered that.

"Truly, I know. I believe you."

He nodded, "No matter how good Edward intends, he may know the words of my mind, but he can not understand the ways of my heart."

I nodded.

"And I hope you know by now that I love you in every sense of the word," he smiled at me wearily, and I stifled a giggle. He nodded to himself, chuckling a little also, and then took a deep breath.

Wanting to relieve him from the slight chagrin I saw dancing in his eyes, I shot him a curious look, "I say, what exactly is balderdash?"

He chuckled, reclaiming my hands in his and answered every single question that fell from my lips.

He didn't refrain from kissing me at all, after our moment of passion, but he _did _refrain from kissing me _that_ way again. The newborn inside of me was dissatisfied with that.

I realised however, that perhaps the reason I was struggling so much more with my emotions as of late, was not because of the newborn, but only because something had awoken inside of me on that fateful day on the stairs… A little risk taker inside of me had decided not to fight this fight quietly.

She wanted to _feel, _because the difficult emotions made the easy ones so very much sweeter when they came.

* * *

_A.N. Hi again! Thanks once more for all of your lovely reviews! I do indeed love getting them, I'm never sure if any of you want replies to your reviews, so I do apologise that I only give them out sporadically. _

_This chapter was a funny one to write, the beginning with Esme and Edward wasn't actually supposed to be quite so long, but it truly wrote itself, and I thought it was nice to see them together, and then all together as a family._

_The original version of this chapter was around 10,000 words, so I cut an enormous part out of the middle that I will add into another chapter soon, in a different character's point of view, but I do love Esme's point of view, so I might post the alternative one too… I'm not sure. _

_Now, one little thing, I know a lot of people think that Esme would love romance novels… as I did too when I first thought of her, but then I realised that her mother would really want her to read romance novels, and my Esme in this story at least, does not like doing what her mother wants… so I got to thinking, Esme is an architect, so therefore she'll have to deal with a lot of math, and if she loved that, she'd like the maths, so her personality would be somewhat analytical, (SM has often said Esme is just as smart as Carlisle too) so although it's very common to analyse romance novels, I find detective novels, especially short stories like Sherlock Holmes, give the reader an opportunity to really piece together a puzzle, and building/renovating/restoring a house is a lot like a puzzle… So I decided this Esme would like mystery novels… it doesn't mean she doesn't like romances… she just loves Sherlock Holmes._

_And I just had to have some more pessimistic Edward to throw a spanner in the works there… I don't think Esme would ever doubt the love Carlisle felt for her because I think he'd always make it extremely clear how true it was._

_Hope you enjoyed! As always, I look forward to your reviews! _

_Much love x_


	34. The Future is Coming Fast

_Chapter Thirty-Four: The Future is Coming Fast_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, October 1921_

_Carlisle_

Duluth was the biggest port in the entire United States of America, so it was not surprising that the wide streets were a bustling hive of activity. The thick haze that coated the city did nothing to deter the flocks of people on the sidewalks, which for me, was a good thing. I had made the trip to Duluth once since Esme joined our family, and I was hesitant to do so again. I spent hours upon hours away from her at the hospital, so I did not want to prolong that time, but I had a very important objective for the day, one that could not be achieved in Ashland town.

My first port of call was the post shop to pick up a rather large package I'd rather the Brinkley's not see. I was already a topic for enough gossip in the small community because of my nephew's mysterious cousin that I _had_ to be courting, so I needn't have them obtain the knowledge that I had received an enormous parcel from London – a parcel that I was unbelievably excited about.

A telescope.

Esme and I had spent many a clear night at the end of summer, sitting on the porch steps gazing to the sky. She loved the stars in the very way I did, and she was brimming with questions about them. I told her everything I knew, and she seemed satisfied with that – more than satisfied, truthfully – but I wanted to go above and beyond what anyone had ever done for her before, so I would teach her more. I would allow her to see into the depths of space that even her advanced eyes could not reach, I would allow her to explore the unexplored from the comfort of our home, and I would show her that she could have anything she wanted if she was only bold enough to want it. I didn't plan on telling her this; of course, I planned on telling her I purchased it for all three of us, for I knew that Edward would love the telescope too.

Storing the telescope safely in the car that I had parked in the street, I turned back to the sea of shoppers, blending effortlessly in with them, as I went to my next stop.

The bookstore.

I constantly needed to find new books for Esme, because she flew through them at an unprecedented rate. I had found the newest copy of The Strand Magazine in the post shop, imagining her face as she was presented with a brand new Holmes mystery. She was a funny thing, my Esme, especially when it came to those stories. Every single mystery that I found easy to solve, puzzled her implicitly, yet those that I could not piece together made such sense to her wondrous mind that she had it all solved long before even the great detective himself. Perhaps this was merely an example of how we truly were two halves of a whole.

My favourite bookstore in Duluth was large and always filled with customers, so nobody looked up when he small bell above the door signalled my entrance. As I walked passed the section where they shelved all the cookbooks, a peculiar memory came back to me.

I had been sitting at my desk, flicking through the newest article on the isletin research happening in Canada, while Esme lounged on the chaise, her nose deep in a book about Europe, no doubt choosing all the places she'd like to see one day, all the places I'd be more than willing to take her. I lost myself for a moment in the writing, and began mumbling to myself quietly; a habit I had developed after my two centuries alone, sometimes it was nice to have sound in the house.

"Carlisle, darling, what _are_ you waffling on about?" Esme wondered without looking up, I gazed over and saw her smiling at her book.

She rarely ever called me darling, but when she did it was distractedly, and in her most motherly tone. It always made me smile.

"Oh, just my medical things."

She giggled, looking up at me adoringly, "Well if you ever have the all consuming urge to tell someone of these medical things of yours, and Edward isn't around, my ears are always open and ready to listen."

I grinned back at her, "I wouldn't bore you unbelievably?"

She shook her head, "I don't think so. I don't _love_ your medical things, but they don't _bore_ me. I find them somewhat interesting, as I'm sure you do not _love _the thought of painting the attic as much as I do, yet you listen intently."

I chuckled, "Very well, I see your point, and I can't refute your logic. I was just reading about a new discovery made in Canada on a molecule called isletin. It's rather quite extraordinary, but not conclusive enough yet. You see, the dogs they used were –"

I paused when her smile became suspiciously wide.

"What is it, my love?" I wondered.

She shook her head, "No, carry on."

I raised an eyebrow, "Please?"

She laughed and closed her book, "It's just… I've no idea what isletin is?"

Of course, I'd forgotten to explain the basics to her, "It's a molecule that we believe helps the body absorb sugar from food."

"Ah, right." She lay her hand on her tummy, "In the stomach?"

I shook my head standing up and making my way over to her, "The pancreas."

"Where is that?"

I gestured to bottom end of my ribs before I sat on the floor in front of her, "Just here, underneath the stomach."

She cocked her head to the side, "The stomach is up there?"

I nodded.

"Then what's?" she murmured, placing her hand back on her tummy, "Let me guess… the intestines?"

I nodded, "Did you read about this in one of my medical texts?"

She shook her head, "I didn't read the anatomy ones. I liked the chemistry ones, they had more maths in them."

I chuckled and leaned forward to kiss her forehead.

"So if the stomach and the pancreas are up here, what is on the other side?"

"The liver, and you have two kidneys on either side as well."

"Why do parents tell you that the stomach is somewhere that it's not?"

I shrugged, "I suppose they don't know."

She shook her head; "Well they shouldn't be saying anything then. All right, is it true that the heart is slightly to the left?"

I nodded.

"Then what is on the right?" She tilted her head to the side curiously.

"The lung is bigger on the right, it has an extra lobe."

"Ahh, I see." She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, "Hmmm, Carlisle?"

"Yes, my love?" I grinned.

"What is meat?"

I was momentarily confused by her new line of questioning, but indulged her none-the-less, "Muscle."

"Muscle?" She looked surprised; her golden eyes widened and her thin light brown eyebrows rose.

"Yes." I nodded.

"What muscle?"

I shrugged, "That depends on what cut you want."

She pursed her lips in consideration, "What is steak?"

"It comes from the back of the animal." My amusement was growing with every reaction of hers.

"So if you were to pat a cow, you'd be patting steak?" She asked slowly.

I nodded.

She screwed up her face, "That's disgusting."

I couldn't help but chuckle, "Darling, you're a vampire. You drink the blood of animals."

She nodded, "That makes it even more disgusting. I used to eat week old dead muscle. If I were human I'd refuse that now."

"They call that being a vegetarian."

She nodded again, "I'd be a vegetarian…" Her expression turned thoughtful, "I say, vegetarians deny themselves meat, despite it tasting nice – to humans – often because they don't want to harm the animal, yes?"

I nodded, "Often yes, but not always."

"And we deny ourselves nice smelling human blood because we don't want to harm the human, so does that make us the vampire versions of vegetarians?"

I laughed, "I suppose it does."

She grinned, "Then good. At least I've made a good choice about my diet in one of my two lives."

I had quite an amusing time imagining my sweet Esme informing her frail mother and gruff father that she refused to eat the food they provided for her. When I found myself in the fiction section of the bookstore, I was faced with my usual conundrum, what author do I bring to her next? I always spent more than the usual amount of time, standing in front of the bookshelves with Esme in mind, trying to choose something she'd like. Truthfully, she'd read anything I gave to her like it was the most riveting piece of literature, but I always wanted to give her something she would adore. On a whim, I left the fiction section empty handed, and headed for the non-fiction area I usually found myself in. However, instead of placing myself in front of the spines of medical texts, I navigated my way to the design section. Admittedly, it was rather sparse, but I found a particular book that looked worthy of note, about house design from 1900 to 1920. She seemed to enjoy redecorating the attic, so perhaps she'd enjoy reading about houses? It was worth a try, I decided.

Picking up a few extra books for Edward and myself, I quickly paid for the books and was on my way. I had a much more important objective for the day.

While walking down the hazy sidewalk back to the car to store away my purchases, my pensive mood brought another memory to the forefront of my mind.

It was the clearest day we had seen in a long time, so naturally, Esme and I had made the most of it. The morning saw us in the garden, lounging about, talking, laughing and occasionally being the silly beings I had come to expect of us. Come the afternoon we relocated inside, with her tugging on my arm, asking me if I would read her any book of my choosing, only in my native accent. As if I could deny her anything that she wished. We came to the doorway of the study, smiling to ourselves, and consequently, each other, as per usual, when her eyes gazed upon my chair. A sly smile slowly replaced the gleeful one as she turned to gaze up at me.

"I've never noticed before, is that a proper office chair?" She wondered, her doe eyes wide.

I nodded and stubbornly refused the confusion to colour my expression.

"So you mean to say it turns?"

I chuckled at her childlike wonder, "It does."

"I've never sat on one… May I?" She wondered shyly.

I gestured for her to take a seat, "Of course you may."

Grinning widely, she was by the chairs side in an instant, her use of vampire speed fully expressing her excitement.

"You know they have been around for a decent hundred years, yes?"

She nodded, sitting down, "Yes, but I've never had reason to sit on one before."

I watched adoringly as she gripped the arms, and gingerly turned the seat from left to right. Her amused smile grew as she became more comfortable, and before I guessed it was coming, she was spinning in speedy circles, around and around. Her giggle was absolutely endearing.

When she allowed the chair to come to a rest, she looked up at me in an almost embarrassed fashion. She slowly stood, pushing herself up by aid of the seat's arms, never once looking away from my completely amused gaze. Her own expression was the perfect blend of impish embarrassment. There was nothing more she could ever do to confirm my suspicions that the Lord had made her the single most endearing one of His creations.

"I think that's enough of that…" She let out a laugh, "Any more and I might embarrass myself," she winked.

I laughed whole-heartedly, and opened my arms up to her, needing to express my mass of love for her somehow.

I grinned to myself as I tucked the books into the car next to the telescope, and once again turned back to the street to finish my errands.

My next stop was the furthest away from the car, which I would have moved, but I was unsure if I would find a place to park it had I taken the gamble. It was no surprise that Duluth was home to many owners of streetcars, I had seen so very many of them just that morning, but it was alarming the amount of car owners in the small town of Ashland. Just the other day I counted seven in the span of two hours! People were already complaining of the adverse effect that the traffic was having on the small settlement.

Walking, I had decided, would do me no harm. As I navigated the sea of shoppers, my mind flittered through my memories of Esme, lingering on some longer than others. Like the first time she'd hugged me. The first time she'd kissed me. The first time she'd told me she loved me. And others, more seemingly insignificant, yet just as beautiful. Like the few moments we had spent in the study only nights before.

She was lounging on the chaise again, with her nose buried deep in a book. This was Esme's default position. I was feeling discontent with reading, so I had fished out the camera and was trying to coax a real smile out of her, not just one of the Victorian demure grins her mother had instilled in her. My attempts had been futile thus far. I was careful not to pester her. I was sure my film only held one photo of her polite, yet detached smiles that were not true, the rest being of the dark scene outside out window, the burning fire in the fireplace, or the back of the boy by the piano. _He_ never even turned around when I asked for a smile. _He_ was in a rude mood. There was a dark chuckle from the other room.

Esme looked up curiously, I took this as my opportunity, I held the camera up, and she pursed her lips.

"Please?"

She sighed and nodded.

Grinning, I walked around to stand in front of her, "All right, smile!"

She gave me another proper smile, I hesitated, "Have I ever mentioned how much I love your feet?"

Her smiled wavered, her eyebrows knitted together in confusion, then she shook her head, laughed, her face relaxed and she beamed at me. Aha! A proper smile! Quickly, I snapped the picture.

"Carlisle!" She protested, "You tricked me into that!"

I chuckled to myself, "You walked straight into that one, love."

She shook her head, but grinned none-the-less, and I knew my antics were forgiven.

I was very eager to develop that film. I wondered if Edward would be willing to help me before he set up the telescope, but I truly doubted it. Not to worry, I had eternity to develop it and frame the photo I had taken of her, to put it on my desk at home.

I rounded the corner of the busy street and found myself on a much quieter one. I took a deep breath of the damp air and powered forward, trying to find the small antiques shop I remembered. If I recalled correctly – it was nearly impossible that I didn't – then the tiny shop on a quiet corner was still two streets over.

Quickly and quietly, I continued making my way through Duluth, letting my mind wonder to the impossibly beautiful woman waiting for me at home.

I loved the way she blinked, and I always thought to myself as I marvelled at her, Carlisle, what the strangest of strange thinks to think, to adore how somebody blinks. When I thought of her blinking my mind just went blank. It was the most basic thing to do, yet for vampires that was not so. She blinked because she wanted to be more human, because she wanted to live the same life as I, and she did it so beautifully. Every flutter of her eyelids was so gentle and peaceful, the way that her eyelashes combined for a fraction of a second took my breath away. Oh, how I loved her eyes, not only when they were open but also when they were closed because that symbolised how safe she felt with me. She did funny things to my heart, that beautiful woman, and even stranger things to my mind. I knew what it was like to live with my thoughts in hyper drive, to think profusely was to be a vampire, there was so much more room to ponder. But she made it so much more chaotic. Her with her colours and her words and her feelings, her with her wild ideas and beautiful, limitless heart, with her shy demeanour and brave soul, she grabbed my mind and she reinvented it. I was never expecting her to come along like she did. I was once set in my ways, and in the blink of an eye, in the flash of a smile, the whisper of a word, I was open to spontaneity. Every small thing she did changed the way I looked at the world, and absolutely nothing could ever make it boring again, because _she_ was the world. She was the most beautiful and colourful world that existed, and I got to gaze at her. I must have done something right for the Lord to send me such a beautiful angel.

Rounding another corning, my thoughts shifted to focus on myself. I was a curious being. I asked a lot of questions, I wondered a lot of things. I'd never been scared nor intimated by that. Until very recently, when I realised there was something I wanted to know, a question I wanted desperately to ask, and for the very first time in my entire existence, I was nervous to wonder something. I was nervous to ask the unbelievably daunting question: _Will you marry me?_ But more than I was nervous to ask that, I was fevered to give her myself forever, I was anxious to promise that whenever she needed me, I would be there, and she never had to let me go. So that was why I was in Duluth, walking down side streets, looking for a sweet antique shop. I was going to ask Esme if I could be her husband, if she would be my wife. And I wanted to present her with a ring she would like. Anyone could tell my Esme loved antiques.

I caught the storefront as I rounded the corner on the opposite side of the road. Smiling to myself I ducked across the empty street and slipped into the small store, another tinkling bell signalling my arrival.

"'Ello, sir," an elderly man with a slight southern accent, a wrinkled face and white hair murmured from behind the counter, "How can I help you today?"

I smiled at the skinny man, who barely fit behind the overcrowded counter. The store was brimming with little nick-knacks and priceless gems, "I'm looking for something special." I murmured as I walked over to the counter, and peered into the glass cabinets. "A ring." There were bracelets and necklaces, brooches and hair clips, lockets and lapel pins but I could not spy a single ring.

"Ahh," the man grinned knowingly, "An engagement ring, perhaps?"

I nodded and flicked him a small smile.

"Over here, son." He gestured to his left, and waddled over to another glass cabinet, relying on his right leg a little more than his left. I followed slowly, "This is where I keep them. Got anything special in mind?" He wondered.

I shrugged, "Something elegant, and dainty. Nothing too outlandish."

He chuckled, "On a budget?"

I shook my head, "Money is no matter."

He blinked in obvious confusion, "Most people with money want big and grandiose."

I offered him up a small smile, then shook my head, "I want something like her."

He seemed touched at my thoughtfulness, "Something very special then, yes?"

I nodded, "Exactly."

Humming to himself quietly he observed the rings in the cabinet, "Any pop out to ya, son?"

Cocking my head to the side, I examined the contents of the glass cabinet. There were a great deal many rings with large faces, bright coloured gems, silver bands, gold bands, thick bands, thin bands, big gems, small gems, and no gems, but none that shouted _Esme._

"Not in particular," I murmured in dismay.

"Hmmm," the clerk looked at me thoughtfully, "May I ask you to tell me about her? What she looks like? What she acts like? It may help me help you."

I nodded, knowing I would have to tell some lies, I tried to keep my story as close to the facts as possible, "She is pale like me, with warm, light brown hair, and doe eyes. Her face is soft and love heart shaped, she's thin and delicate. She loves to read and she adores nature. She takes care of the mouse that live in one of the outbuildings, but she has no pets. She's a brilliant painter and she likes to redecorate rooms. Her family have all passed, aside from her cousin, who she adores like a younger brother. She's curious and cautious, but her soul knows no bounds or limits, it's as free as a summer breeze. She's intelligent, but keeps it mostly to herself, she listens like the speaker is saying the most riveting of things, merely because she cares that other people think. When she hears birds singing, she hums along with them, and she likes to climb trees."

He chuckled vibrantly at my last statement, and his watery brown eyes took on a thoughtful, faraway look, "Oh, she does remind me of someone I once knew."

I smiled, and waited patiently for him to come back to me. He grinned almost embarrassedly when he did.

"She likes old pieces, I take it?"

I nodded, "Old and one of a kind."

He pursed his lips, "Hmmm, may I ask her name, son?"

"Anna."

His reply grin was wide, "I like you, son."

I smiled up at him and chuckled, "Thank you."

"I think I know what you're looking for," he smiled tenderly, waddled back to the first glass cabinet, and opened the back. Curiously I followed him.

"Now this is nothing special to anyone who looks at it and doesn't know it, but if you know it, my God, it's the most special thing on God's green Earth."

I smiled, that's what I wanted… I just hoped it wasn't too big.

He pulled out a small gold jewellery box with beautiful rubies lining the front, and fragments of diamonds scattered all around them like stars. He ran his hands over the top and looked to me cautiously, examining my expression, before he took a deep breath and smiled, "Now, I know diamonds aren't too popular just now, after the war, but do you know how they did become popular in the middle of last century?"

I did, but I shook my head, playing the part.

"In 1866 during the first Boer War, they found a diamond in South Africa, and when I say they, I mean some young children found it. People later called it the Eureka diamond, and it's a bit yellow, but it's beautiful, absolutely beautiful. By 1870 the place was flooded by minors, but no one was ever told of the _second_ diamond they found there. It doesn't have a name, it's not quite as big, but it is still beautiful. See son, I was there with those children when they found that diamond, and I went out that night and I found myself my own one. When I came back home to America, I told nobody, because I wanted to make the most beautiful ring for my sweetheart, Annie. I loved her from the moment I met her. She was my sunshine and my rain." The man's watery brown eyes were far away, gazing at his memory of his Annie in the most loving of ways, "But of course, as these things go, she died of some disease before I could finish the ring for her. I never loved anybody else after my Annie. And this ring has just been gathering dust ever since."

He opened the lid of the small, golden jewellery box, reached into it, and pulled out a small, dainty little ring. In the middle sat a medium-sized, round diamond with thirty-two small triangular faces all dancing with the light, slanting off of the slightly larger middle face. It sparkled in the dim light of the small shop in the most beautiful, yet subtle way. It was only made more beautiful by the two gold bands that supported it by five small claws. The thin gold bands weaved around the middle diamond in a rope like fashion that had no beginning, nor any end; one of the two bands was completely encrusted with smaller, yet no less brilliant, diamonds.

"It's… beautiful."

The old man grinned from ear to ear, "It is, isn't it just? She would've loved it. Now I know your sweetheart will love it too."

I looked up to him dubiously, "Are you sure you can part with it?"

He shrugged, "I've been saving it for a good home. I can tell by the way you talk about your lovely, that you're never going to let her go, so please, if you like it, you can have it."

I opened my wallet, and pulled out a few bills, placing them on the counter, "In that case, I would love it."

His eyes bulged at the paper on top of the glass, and he began to shake his head, "No, oh no, it's not worth that much. That's too much."

I smiled, "I think it's beautiful, I can see it's a real diamond, real gold, and this is how much I think it's worth."

He shook his head profusely, "I'm not going to rob you, son."

"I told you money didn't matter."

He began to protest, but I cut him short. "Look, I just spent this much ordering a telescope in from London because she likes to look at the stars, I've been spending hours upon hours of gazing at spines in bookstores that I have no idea about because I only want to see her smile, I don't care how much time or money it costs me, in the end, all that matters is that she's happy. That's worth the world to me. I'll pay you any sum above this if you'd like me to, for that ring."

He shook his head at me in disbelief, and then slowly smiled. He put the ring back down into the ornate little golden jewellery box, "Only if you'll have this too."

He pushed the box forward, and I smiled, nodding, "She'll love this. Is there any story behind it?"

He half-shrugged, "It's from Columbus, Ohio. An estate sale I found of an old deceased couple that died in a car accident in '14. A lovely young lady there didn't want me to have it, so I almost gave it up, but it was so beautiful. It was originally her great, great grandparents', but her mother insisted that it was for sale. Bright thing that girl, bright thing."

"Hmmm?" I grinned, picturing a particular caramel headed young lady arguing with her mother at an estate sale.

He chuckled at a memory, "She almost tricked me out of buying it, but gave in at the last minute with a sigh, 'Have it,' she says, 'I can tell you like it, at least some one will take care of it.' So she gave it to me a few dollars cheaper than what her mother was selling it for. I asked her why, she said so I could make more money on it, said I'll need it for my hip." He chuckled adoringly, "Somehow she knew I had a bung hip. Guess it's me limp. No one else noticed. But I'd no clue how she knew I was buying it to sell it on. I still can't figure it out. That's why I kept it with the ring. I'm a sentimental old fool."

I smiled to myself, wishing I could tell him that I was in love with a young lady from Columbus Ohio, whose grandparents died in an automobile accident in 1914, and who had an uncanny knack for knowing things. But she was supposed to be dead. I wished I could tell him that the box had found its way back to her.

We traded the box and ring for the paper money, wished each other well, and I left the store, my heart euphoric with the knowledge of my beautiful purchase. I was sure Esme would love it. As I walked the streets of Duluth, back to where I had parked the car I marvelled at how the past was slow to leave, and how that had been true for so very many years, but now I knew, as a truth, the future was coming fast. And what a bright future that was…

Now, I just had to plan a romantic way to ask her for her hand…

* * *

_A.N. During Carlisle's little _will you marry me_ thought monologue, I really wanted to emphasize that he wants to marry Esme not because he wants to have her (which he does, but that doesn't register as important in his mind, because he's unbelievably selfless) but because he wants her to be happy and he knows that she wants him to be happy and the only way that they can be happy is _together_. It's not a matter of 'you're going to make _me_ happy,' but instead, 'I want to dedicate the rest of my existence to making_ you _happy.' I think that's Carlisle and Esme's relationship; it's for each other, not for him or herself. It's genuinely and beautifully selfless… Just like them. _

_Also, I got to thinking, in Breaking Dawn, when Edward was telling Bella about Rosalie and Emmett's houses, he says "Esme knows what Rose likes, and she knows what you like." I figured that Esme – who is not a direct person – would have _observed _what the girls like. This is another reason I have her being very observant and liking to figure things out. Hence her little argument with the jewellery shop owner in Ohio. Living forever, the Cullen's would have to find old trinkets that they loved here and there… As for how Esme's great-grandparents got their hands on such a piece, well we'll have to wait and see._

_Next chapter is Edwards point of view! Yay! ... And maybe Esme will get out of the house..._

_Thanks again for all the reviews, favourite and follows! Keep 'em coming!  
Much love x_


	35. Her First Test

_Chapter Thirty-Five: Her First Test_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, October 1921_

_Edward_

I had never composed a piano piece as a human; instead I had focussed on learning as much as I could about my favourite instrument. It wasn't until Carlisle and I cleared out my house after my transformation, and took the piano but left behind my collection of sheet music, that I began to write my own. It wasn't a quick and painless exercise, although I supposed it would become that way with decades of practise, but I enjoyed it none-the-less.

Carlisle was behind me on the lounge, pretending to read his newest journal, but not succeeding at all. He was planning how to ask Esme for her hand in marriage. He'd considered lighting hundreds of candles around the lake with the cove and whisking her away next Tuesday evening, as well as taking her to the little broken church they had found, right when the light would filter through the trees most magnificently, before saying a few heartfelt words, getting down on one knee and pulling out the ring. However, more than _almost_ anything, he wanted to run upstairs to the attic and ask her that very instant, but the one thing that trumped that, was his desire to ask her in a romantic setting.

I smiled to myself thinking back on the passed two days since Carlisle had returned from Duluth. At first he had been hiding something from me, and I was curious to know what and why, but soon the excitement took over, and his control slipped. He was going to ask her to marry him. It wasn't truly a surprise to me, it had crossed his mind many times before, asking for her hand, but since the night I told him that perhaps taking things slower would help with her control, he'd began to consider it more practically when I was not around. I knew what happened that night, although I didn't like to relive it, and it seemed as though my idea was the complete opposite of his. He wanted to speed up their relationship. I took a deep breath and clenched my teeth, in that case I was going to have to get used to hearing very intimate thoughts about the two people I had truly begun to view as parents. Or I could better learn to block them out.

I focussed harder on the piano, watching as the black and white keys dipped at my feather light pressure, listening as the melody weaved through the air, up and down and up again. It did sound lovely, but I was stuck again, wondering where to take the melody next. Suddenly it hit me in more depth than it had before. Carlisle was going to ask Esme to marry him. My heart swelled with immense glee for my mentor, creator and father. He would be alone no longer. My fingers drifted up to a high C, and twinkled jubilantly, emitting a tinkling sound of euphoria. I knew that they would be so happy. I was momentarily consumed by the urge to tell Carlisle to just go and ask her right then and there… But that would disrupt our plans for the evening. Plans I was rather looking forward to.

Esme had agreed just yesterday, because Carlisle was oddly given Thursday night off, to take a visit into Ashland town. We were planning on heading in late at night; so few humans would be out and about on the street. It was funny to me that Esme's biggest qualm regarding integrating herself into society lay in the fact that she didn't own a corset. She believed in herself enough to know that she would be all right around humans, the temptation would be there, no doubt (she was planning to hold her breath the entire time), but after Brinkley and Lola's visit, she had confidence. Confidence was not a common thing for Esme, but she was gaining it, surely and slowly.

Esme wandered into the room then. I flicked her a smile over my shoulder, and Carlisle shifted to make room for her. She went straight over to him and nestled herself into his side.

_Well this is lovely, but she looks upset about something, _Carlisle's delight at her close proximity was masked by his worry at her mood, and then mixed with his satisfaction that she wanted to be with him when she was upset.

Esme wasn't upset about anything in particular; she was just in a melancholy mood. These things happened occasionally. There was usually a stimulus though, I wondered what it was.

"Are you worried about tonight?" Carlisle murmured in a quiet voice, and I pretended to pay full attention to the piano. Carlisle and Esme did not believe in expressing their love for one another in company, nor did they feel the need to make it plainly obvious that they were sweethearts. Hand holding, and the occasional hug – most usually when sitting down – as well as the even rarer kiss on the forehead or cheek, were the only forms of affection they displayed publicly.

Esme shook her head, and murmured, "I'm not really upset about anything."

"No?" _I don't want to pester her._

She shook her head, "My little boy would have been six months old now," she whispered, "I'm not upset about that… I only miss him."

Carlisle's thoughts were consumed with sadness for the one thing he could never give her; he stroked her hair and then pulled her closer, pressing his lips to the top of her head.

Of course I felt as though I was intruding on moments like these, but a part of me felt as though I had to get used to it. Besides, it wasn't as though I hadn't heard it all before. Some people thought the most vulgar of things. Carlisle's thoughts regarding Esme were some of the softest and most sincere thoughts I had read, and it was truly a pleasure to be able to share his head, but there were some things I did not want to know. I had no wish to learn what the feeling of Esme's lips were like, or how hard it was to control himself around her. I did not understand the fixation he had with her collarbones, or why he always resorted to reciting the Latin dictionary he stored in his head when she wore a dress that he liked. She was not much better. Whenever he took off his jacket and vest, leaving only his shirt, she became so entranced that she completely forgot I could read her mind. Esme had never come across anything quite as perfect as Carlisle. However, when she did remember my mental presence, she resorted to mentally humming, which was a nice change. I liked music.

"It'll be good to get away from the house," Carlisle murmured, "See the town tonight."

She nodded, "Perhaps I am just starting to go stir crazy."

Carlisle chuckled, "It happens to the best of us. I really am so proud of you for trying this tonight. This whole thing might seem more real when you get to see the outside of our forests and these walls. We'll be able to seriously consider and start planning a few trips here and there. To Canada, around the States, maybe even down into South America. Your choice, my love. In time, Europe won't seem like such an impossibility either."

Esme's mind was reeling with euphoria at the picture Carlisle painted for her. Travel was something she was exceptionally looking forward to, because travel meant adventure.

"Or we could just swim to Europe?" she joked.

Carlisle chuckled and grinned at her lovingly, but before he could reply, I cut in.

The music abruptly stopped as I whirled around, "You know," they both turned to look at me curiously, "That's not a half bad idea."

"To swim?" Esme queried dubiously.

I nodded, "We don't need air, it would be an adventure, and an interesting experience. We'd probably reach the continent faster than any boat could take us."

Carlisle grinned, "And what about the talk we'll generate, when three strangely pale people emerge, fully clothed from the ocean?"

I sighed, "Well obviously we'd emerge at night time, and go for a run to dry ourselves off."

"And we would go without hunting while we swam?" He wondered.

I shook my head and grinned, "I always thought underwater hunting would be an interesting thing to try."

Carlisle dissolved into laughter as Esme grinned at me lovingly. In their minds, they could not deny my logic.

"We could go tomorrow." I suggested half-heartedly.

Carlisle stopped laughing and shot me a pointed look, _Edward, I'd like to marry her first, please._

I shrugged, "All right. Not tomorrow, but soon. It's not a bad idea."

Carlisle was relieved, "I'll agree. It's not a bad idea."

I moved from the piano, to the armchair opposite the lounge, "How long do you think it would take?"

Carlisle pursed his lips thoughtfully, "Well, we can run over one hundred miles an hour, swimming, naturally is slower, but still remarkably fast… I'd estimate the edge of the United States is about three thousand miles away from the edge of Wales, so perhaps a little over thirty hours. Two days to be safe?"

I grinned, "Much quicker."

Esme laughed, "You are far too attached to this idea, Edward."

I shrugged, "I think it would be fun. You can't deny that you do too?" I knew that the best way to get Carlisle on board was to get Esme on.

She shrugged, feigning indifference; "I can't imagine swimming the Atlantic in a dress."

Carlisle and I chuckled; I could tell that Esme was very enticed by the idea. "Well," I murmured, leaning back into the seat, "We do have a while to decide."

They agreed, and we spent the rest of the evening discussing the places that we would like to see. Carlisle wanted to avoid a great portion of Italy, and the southern states of the US. He had seen a lot of Europe, but not all, and Esme was eager to go to those places he'd never visited before. Her mind was most content and filled with love when she was snuggled up on the couch next to his side, with his arm holding her tight.

When night had really set in, and the clock read quarter to ten, Esme disappeared upstairs to change. Carlisle was worried about her, but he believed she could do it. It was entertaining listening to him argue with himself inside of his head.

_I do apologise, Edward._ He grinned at me ruefully; _I'm still struggling to comprehend why I am so nervous about this._

"Because you love her," I mouthed.

He nodded, _Very true. Thank you for helping her so much Edward. I am so grateful._

I smiled, "I love her too."

His grin was wide, _I can tell. _

I let out a laugh, "Thank you for saving her," I mouthed again.

His expression turned soft, and he nodded, _I thank me too. I know that's selfish, but she's changed my world. I don't know how I ever lived without her._

I smiled back in return, listening to her footsteps on the stairs in both his and my mind. The only words that sounded in his mind as he stood up and moved towards the hallway, were _Never again._

I knew it was true, Carlisle would never again be without his Esme, and that's exactly how it should be.

"You look beautiful, my love," Carlisle smiled when he saw her in her dark blue dress, and matching warm hat, "Let me get your coat, which one would you like?"

She smiled, _I'm not used to having more than one coat,_ "The brown one, please." _Nor someone who wants to get my coat for me. _

He was back in an instant, helping her into her warm clothes. The extra warmth that the layers of fabric offered Esme were of no interest or use to her, but the warmth that Carlisle offered with his arms was one of the most beautiful feelings she had ever felt. Carlisle pulled away from their embrace when he heard me stand, and I watched from the doorway as he secured a scarf safely around her neck.

He then turned to me with a teasing glint in his eyes, "Would you like me to get your coat also, Edward?"

I grinned, "Oh, that would be delightful, thank you Carlisle."

Chuckling to himself he dashed back into the washroom to retrieve our coats from the cupboard. I took the moment of Carlisle's absence to turn to Esme. She stood smiling on the bottom step of the staircase, her thoughts merely jumbles of love for her two boys. She wore a light brown coat, with a fabric belt just below her waist, which fell an inch above her dress' ankle hemline. Her hair was arranged in curls at the back of her head, and her scarf was a deep blue, making her warm brown hair look more like fire… More like mine.

"You do look beautiful, mother." I murmured, smiling up at her.

Her mind shone with adoration at my calling her _mother_. "Thank you, my darling. You do look awfully nice in that suit; I've not seen it before. Is it new?" She wondered, and I nodded. "I notice your tie isn't crooked," she laughed as Carlisle reappeared in the room, giving her a lovingly annoyed look.

"Thank you," I grinned to both her and my father, who handed me my favourite coat, "I wasn't strategically planning to have a particular beautiful lady straighten it for me."

She beamed and tried to hold back her laughter as her adoring eyes fixed themselves upon Carlisle's bashful face.

"All right, all right," he murmured running his hair through his long blonde hair, "Let us be off before we find new ways to try to embarrass me."

Esme – who was the same height as Carlisle from her perch on the stairs – reached out to stroke his face in one of those gestures that demanded I avert my eyes, "I hope you're not embarrassed. I'd straighten your tie every day for the rest of forever, if I had my way."

He beamed back, and I sighed, "Yes, leaving now seems like a grand idea to me."

They both chuckled, and Carlisle offered Esme his arm, which she took gladly, then they followed me out into the night. The fresh air felt marginally different than the air inside, but it bothered me none. I wondered what the temperature was, unbearably cold for humans no doubt.

_Would you like to drive, Edward? _Carlisle wondered from a few steps behind. I tossed up the idea for a short while, but decided against it. I didn't want to give them too much opportunity to get close while I was otherwise occupied, shaking my head I replied, "No, you'd better, Carlisle. I'll show Esme the landscape."

His thoughts were remarkably in sync with my own, it was rather funny to me, to be quite honest, that Carlisle – Carlisle Cullen master of control – was struggling monumentally with his self control when it came to Esme. He was setting a brilliant example for me, however, for Esme hadn't the slightest clue exactly how difficult it was for him. I supposed controlling thirst was quite a lot different, being away from blood, for him at least, was something possible in the beginning, but there was no possible way that he could be apart from Esme for an extended period of time anymore. It would cause him pain. Her too. He knew this. The mated bond was unbelievably strong, and between them it would get stronger, for they weren't even technically mates yet.

I pulled open the garage door, and dashed to the beautiful car. The Cadillac was shiny, black and a beautiful piece of workmanship. I cringed thinking back on the blurry days of my childhood when cars were merely horse drawn carriages. My father had owned an automobile for a great amount of time while I was growing up, I remembered him buying it in the summer of 1911, I was ten years old, and he let me help him choose it. This was one of the only memories I had of my father and I spending quality time with one another, truthfully Carlisle had been a much better father than my biological one had ever managed. I did miss my parents, but I found no use in coveting the things that were impossible to have. I lived my time with my parents in my human life, and I lived a good time with them, it was time now to enjoy the company of my parents in this life. Those who, in the years to come, would undoubtedly become more and more like my true parents more than those who gave birth to me. The thought was saddening of course, but I could not think of two better people than Esme and Carlisle to call mother and father.

Running my hands along the smooth metal, I found the doorhandle and opened it for Esme, holding out my hand for her to take. Her thoughts were curious – and thankful for my help – when she climbed into the front seat. We three squeezed into the front of the car as a safety precaution, if there was fresh blood, we could both hold her back.

"Have you never been in an automobile before?" I wondered, and she flicked me a smile shaking her head.

"No, only the wagons that my father had." _Charles never had any mode of transport._

She had barely thought of Charles – I cringed even thinking his name – for months, but the memories of her baby only brought back memories of him. She hoped one day she would be able to forget his face, never forgetting who he was or what he did, but ridding her mind of those haunting black eyes. I wished this too, and I wished that I could forget him, but I knew that I couldn't. It enraged me to think that filth like him was still freely roaming the Earth. The vampire inside of me reared it's head as I began to imagine the many ways I could end his reign of terror, but Esme's soft gloved hand reaching for mine stopped my violent train of thought. It was impossible to think of murder when sitting next to her and Carlisle, who was placing the key in the ignition, but I was truly against considering it murder when he was a monster himself… It was more like justice.

"So where are we going to, exactly?" Esme wondered in her soft voice, "I mean, what part of Ashland town?"

Carlisle's mind flashed with every building in the small little town, undecided as to where to take her. "Well, we could show you the library," he murmured, shifting the car into reverse, and backing it out of the garage, "Or perhaps the gallery? We can walk you passed the stores, and the theatre. We'll let you choose some places you'd like to visit during the daytime."

Her thoughts were apprehensive; yet curious as she watched his hands move the gearstick from reverse into first. "We don't have to go in the daytime anytime soon, do we?"

He smiled lovingly at her, slowly driving down the driveway, "Not until you're ready."

"Are you endeavouring to go this slow the entire way, old man?" I wondered to Carlisle. My tone reflected my mood, somewhat teasing, and somewhat impatient.

"With a lady in the car, _junior_, yes, I am."

We shared a chuckle over Carlisle's nickname for me. He often called me son, however on the rare occasion when he could tell my tone was verging on aggressive and not joking, his foolproof way of averting an argument was to joke about my being Edward Masen _Jr_.

"You have a warped sense of humour, you old crackpot," I muttered under my breath while still grinning, and turned to look out the window. Carlisle's laugh filled the small cab, but I ignored him, and instead, squeezed Esme's hand, "Look there, Esme. You can see the grass beside the driveway growing ever so slightly. By the time we reach the road, the grass will be ten foot tall."

My words only made him laugh even more; Esme shook her head fondly at me, and then turned to Carlisle. She patted his knee with her small hand, unaware that it was extremely distracting for him, and murmured, "I don't mind if you'd like to go faster. Go as fast as you'd like." She reached up and kissed his cheek softly.

"Esme!" I chided, "If you distract the driver any more, we'll find ourselves wrapped around a tree."

She pursed her lips and pulled away, but Carlisle and I both caught the mischievous glint in her eye, "What a poor tree that would be," she murmured, causing both of us to chuckle again. Of course, the tree would come out worse off.

Carlisle put more pressure on the gas pedal, constantly watching Esme for any signs of discomfort at the speed, it was of course, her first time in a car. Carlisle was too gentle with her, she was a vampire, for crying out loud; she was accustomed to flying through the forest at record speeds. He was unable to see any unease from her, so with a small shrug, he depressed the pedal to the floor, and switched up the gears until we were going at an acceptable speed. She liked that better. Smiling to myself I pointed out a few different features of the world outside our window, it was odd to think that Esme had lived with us for six months and had never seen the end of our driveway. Carlisle's hand found Esme's free one, as he drove single-handedly (He scolded humans for doing this, but I suppose the temptation was just too much to resist).

Esme adored the colours of the night, the rich blues and dark greens with the bright white stars in the night sky. We spent the next few moments pointing out the stars we'd gazed at through our telescope. Carlisle spoilt us in that way. Anything we ever wanted, he'd ensure we had it. My human father had been much the same with monetary things, but Carlisle's gifts were much more thoughtful. Esme and I never had to ask for anything, Carlisle read situations so well to know exactly what we coveted.

"See that one, the brightest one over there?" I asked pointing toward the brightest star in the night sky, Esme leaned over, ducking her head to see out the window, she found the star I had been pointing to, _That one?_

I nodded, "That's Sirius, I've been trying to find it since we got the telescope, but the clouds have been hiding it."

"I remember you mentioning that. Wow, it is bright, isn't it?"

I nodded, "It has to be enormous, it's only eight and a half light years away."

"As big as the sun, do you think?"

I shook my head, "Smaller than that, I'd say, but still, a whopper."

She laughed lovingly, "Is it your favourite?"

I shrugged, "I guess. The name means scorcher. I like that. Do you think we'll ever make it into space?" I wondered to Carlisle.

"Us specifically, or the human race?" He wondered.

"Either?"

He shrugged, his thoughts deposited numerous possible scenarios, "I don't see why not. Humans definitely will, we mustn't ever underestimate them. When I was younger I never would have considered automobiles possible, but here we are. Planes are getting better as the months pass, no doubt humans will find themselves passing through the atmosphere soon enough. I don't think I'd much like to be on one of the vessels that go up, though. I don't know enough about to space to know what it would be like for our kind."

He was picturing flames in the sky, "You think if the vessel blew up, we'd perish?" I wondered, Esme's mind turned alarmed.

"Yes." Carlisle's voice was void of any emotion, his mind merely curious as to Esme's reaction.

"No space travel for you two, then," she murmured, to which I grinned.

"Not just yet," I chuckled. "You must admit, you would like a better view of the stars, would you not?"

She shook her head; "I can see them just fine with gravity holding me down, thank you very much."

I smirked, perhaps she was right, and Earth was just fine, but I liked to think of myself as a curious being much like my adopted father, and I'd find it interesting to see space.

"I hope I've not put any ideas into your head about space travel, by giving you that telescope, Edward," Carlisle murmured fondly, "I wouldn't want you to frighten your mother with your grand exploratory ideas."

"Frighten my mother, grand adventurer extraordinaire, because of my desire to explore? Impossible. I say, Esme, we should climb Mount Everest." I grinned, knowing the thought had crossed her mind once or twice.

She giggled, "And if we do, that will be the closest to space I'll ever get."

"In a million years you might change your mind," I pointed out.

She pursed her lips thoughtfully, "It's a strange thought, isn't it? A million years?"

The cab fell silent as we three pictured ourselves in a million years. I noticed Carlisle and Esme's imaginations were exactly the same, four happy faces – they were standing hand in hand next to me, and by my side was a mystery woman. It took me a while to realize exactly who this was. _My mate._ In a million years all they wanted was for us all to be happy. I was touched.

The cold night passed by our window in a highly defined blur, but slowly began to refocus as we reached the outskirts of Ashland town. There were a few lights turning curtained windows yellow, and the streetlights on the wide road lit circles on the floor; from a distance it was beautiful, but Esme instantly realised that the light from the small town dimmed the light from the bright stars. This disheartened her, she wondered if perhaps we could always find houses on the outskirts of town to occupy.

Carlisle parked the car on the side of the empty road, and turned to look at her, "How are you feeling, my love?"

She nodded, and tentatively took a breath, I hadn't realised that she had stopped breathing. The air, which had yet to be contaminated by the outside, was fresh. She managed a smile, "I'm feeling all right."

He squeezed her hand; "I have complete faith in you, my darling. If it gets too much, Edward will know."

She nodded, fear bubbling in her golden eyes, she so desperately did not want them to be red again.

"It won't be too much, Esme. You've done this before. This isn't your first test, merely your first planned one." He grinned and placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

She continued nodding like her head was on hinges, and Carlisle chuckled lovingly, "You can do this, Esme."

She took a deep breath, before giving on definitive nod; _Will they check the air is clear before I go out? _She wondered, picturing a human round the corner bleeding out from a small leg wound.

I smiled, "All right. I'll just check the air before you go out, in case a human has fallen over," she registered my teasing in her mind, "Hold your breath while I open the door."

She nodded, and took in one last deep breath. Flicking her a reassuring smile I opened the door and let the cold air wash over my face.

"It's clean," I murmured, before I climbed out of the car. Carlisle helped Esme out his side, and when her feet were steadily on the floor, she took a tentative breath. Although the scent she inhaled was mostly Carlisle's, her throat burned dully from the faint smell of humans that lingered in the air.

She smiled up at Carlisle and nodded her okay. This pleased him beyond all else, so he securely looped her arm through his, and led the three of us down the footpath.

"Where would you like to see first?" He wondered, hoping she wouldn't insist upon entering the buildings, for that would entail breaking into them, which he'd rather her not see him do.

"I don't mind, anywhere," she murmured, she was ecstatic, marvelling at the beauty of the small town, wondering if we could come back every night. "The library?"

Carlisle nodded her, and we three walked on the narrow sidewalk, round the corner and up the next street until we found ourselves outside the small central library. We stopped there for a while, discussing the limited range of books they offered, and I tried to convince her to let us take her in to Duluth, but she wouldn't have a bar of it. She was a curious woman, my vampire mother. We soon moved on, and Esme wanted to see Lake Superior, so we found ourselves on the shores, gazing at the moonlight on the water. As per usual, the beautiful sight put Esme in a pensive mood.

"I'm finding it difficult to accept that us flying through the forests, finding the most beautiful and interesting places, climbing trees and acting as though the world doesn't exist, belongs in the exact same life as this quiet town and calm lake do. This is so normal, so common, so utterly ordinary, that it makes the tree climbing seem unreal. I feel like I should be worried that I'm living alone with two men I've only known for six months, in a secluded house on the outskirts of town and barely anyone knows I'm there. I'm struggling to put the two worlds together in one universe."

Carlisle pulled her closer, and kissed the top of her head, but he had no words to offer her in comfort or resolution.

"Which do you prefer?" I wondered, my eyes still glued to the view of the lake.

"Our little world. No doubt. It's the world I always wished existed, where people just are who they are and there's no questions asked. You don't have to give a justified reason to love somebody. You can believe in something even if the odds are stacked against it and no one will tell you otherwise. You can try things and be terrible at them, but no embarrassment follows, only encouragement and nourishment." She let out a soft laugh, "It's like a utopia. Heaven dead smack in the middle of Hell. Where every rule some cynical, and sad person cooked up to make everyone else unhappy is thrown out the window. What we are is known as bad, but there is not a fibre of either of your beings that is anything but _good_. I love our little world, and I love you both."

Carlisle's thoughts – like mine – were filled with adoration for the newest addition to the family.

"We love you too," he murmured softly, and then chuckled, "But you know that."

She beamed up at him, and nodded.

Before the moment could get any more sentimental, I had to ask, "So the whole, pouncing on animals and killing them with your bare hands and razor sharp teeth doesn't bother you?"

She laughed, and shook her head, "Trust you to highlight the darkest part of our being." She fixed her loving gaze on my face, "But no, it doesn't. Because every time we do that, it reminds me of the lives that we're _not_ taking. That decision is what makes us different."

Her mind was filled with the strong desire to wrap me in a hug with her spare arm, so I shifted minutely, into her reach, and she grinned, pulling me in close to her and Carlisle.

"You two have made me the happiest I have ever been. Thank you for that." A small part of her mind almost expected tears to fall from her eyes, so quickly I kissed her on the cheek and pulled away.

I ran my hand through my hair, "Well that is enough sentimentality for me today. Where shall we go next?"

Chuckling, my parents followed as I turned my back on the lake and walked towards the small town. We ran into no humans as we passed the dark stores, and empty galleries. Esme spotted the hospital from a distance, and repressed all of the unhappy memories that flooded her mind when she saw it. Instead focussing on the joy that it must bring her beloved doctor.

"One day," I murmured, as we walked passed, "Maybe in a decade or so, you'll be able to walk into the hospital where Carlisle works at the time, and make all of the nurses jealous."

She laughed jovially, trying to deny how much that would please her. I saw straight through her façade. "Pray tell, do Mable and Ruby know that I exist?"

I chuckled, "Esme, everyone in Ashland knows that you exist. In fact, most of the female population are unbelievably jealous of you, yet they all wish you weren't so sickly so they could take you out shopping and be your friend."

She cocked an eyebrow, "Why?"

I shrugged, "They seem to think that you must be interesting to captivate the doctor when they could not."

"And you are interesting," Carlisle interjected, "Very interesting, indeed."

Esme laughed freely once more, "That almost sounds like a bad thing."

Carlisle merely shrugged, and grinned mischievously, which earned him a tickle in the ribs and a kiss on the cheek. Carlisle marvelled at her discovery of his weak spot, _I didn't even know I was ticklish._

We talked for a while as we walked the dark streets, of how nice it would be to walk them during the day, and after some coaxing, much to her well hidden chagrin, Esme agreed. We were all truthfully excited about the prospect of a visit during the day (even if Esme's excitement wasn't as pronounced as Carlisle's and mine), to show Esme around, especially after how well she had been doing that night. We decided to walk passed the theatre, knowing that many humans would be inside the building, but believing she could stay in control. We walked jovially, high on her success… However, her progress began a steep and rapid descent downwards when we rounded the next corner…

* * *

_A.N. Well, hello, hello again.  
What a strange experience I had with this chapter, sometimes the words just came pouring out, and then other times I'd stare at the screen for such a long time, unable to think of anything! Edward just didn't want me in his head this past week! ANYWAY, 200 reviews! Oh my word, you are all amazing! Thank you so much, as most authors on here do, I absolutely LOVE reading your reviews, they bring light to my days, so keep them coming! _

_Welcome to all my new followers, I'm glad you've found my little story, and I hope you all keep on enjoying it!_

_Much love x_


	36. Failure

_Chapter Thirty-Six: Failure _

_Ashland, Wisconsin, October 1921_

_Esme_

The night was quiet in Ashland town, and the darkness brought with it a cool breeze. I was thankful for the gentle wind that brushed my face as I walked down the sidewalk with Carlisle and Edward; it came off the lake and washed most of the smell of human away. When we'd walked passed the hospital I had mixed feelings. It reminded me of my son, and the moment he died, but it also reminded me of Carlisle, whose arm was intertwined with mine, and how happy it made him. I didn't know what right I had to feel this way, but I was so proud of Carlisle. He was around two hundred and fifty-five years my senior, and he'd been practising medicine long before my great, great grandparents were born; yet I was so proud of what he'd achieved. The feeling felt somewhat misplaced next to the figures, but then again, it felt right. I only wished that _I_ could make _him_ proud.

We rounded the corner; to make our way passed the theatre when Edward abruptly froze. He cleared his throat; "Perhaps we should give the theatre a miss tonight."

Carlisle nodded, but didn't ask any questions, I realised there must have been blood. Would we be far enough away from it that I wouldn't smell it? I held my breath, my mind frantically trying to grapple with the worry that had flooded me.

"It's not blood, Esme." Edward murmured, "It's not you either, it's me." He tapped his head, and I understood. Unpleasant thoughts. My heart flooded with compassion for Edward, I reached out for his hand and gave it a squeeze, I didn't know what to say, so I merely told him I loved him in my head.

He grinned and placed a quick kiss on my hair. I caught Carlisle grinning proudly out the corner of my eye.

We were two streets over when I heard the theatre doors open, three sets of feet exited. I could hear sharp intakes of breath as the humans registered the cold temperature.

"Just wait here, Ethel," a man's deep voice said, "I must go and talk with John for a moment." My brow furrowed, what an ungentlemanly thing to do, leaving a woman out in the cold. My teeth began to grit together, I wrestled with the newborn emotions that were coming hard and fast. These feelings were irrational.

Carlisle sensed my discomfort and pulled me closer, "I love you," he whispered into my hair, "You are doing beautifully."

His words and his presence for that matter calmed me exceptionally. I inhaled a deep breath of his cinnamon-pear-and-fresh-air scent that sent both waves of calm and excitement through me. I tried my best to focus on the calm, the excitement could come later. I had a lot of time to let myself get carried away, and test his self control when we were home.

A small voice cut through my inappropriate thoughts, "But father, it's cold!"

I felt a small gasp escape my lips as the young girl spoke. How could a father leave his child outside in such a cold night? Surely they could wait inside?

"Esme?" Carlisle wondered, his voice was worried.

I shook my head, trying to do away with his anxiety, "I'm sorry, I don't know what's come over me."

He raised an eyebrow, but I merely smiled, "Let's keep walking."

He nodded and did not pester, I felt Edward squeeze my hand in reassurance. I was definitely looking forward to having this newborn year behind me.

"Now don't you start complaining, young lady," the woman – Ethel – chided, "Father must do these things and we must wait." Heavy footsteps began to walk.

I stared forward, focussed on walking in the general direction of the car, when Edward spoke, "The man is, he's in the alley between this street and the theatre." He must have been answering a question of Carlisle's.

I stiffened.

"It's all right, Esme," Carlisle murmured, "You are of no harm to them."

I knew that, of course. I was completely in control of that side of my nature; I hadn't taken a breath since I last spoke. What bothered me was the frustration and anger that was bubbling in the pit of my stomach, because the man had left his wife and child in the cold.

"Hello baby," a different woman cooed.

Confusion coloured my thoughts momentarily before I dismissed it, I was sure I didn't want to know what was about to happen, and I wanted more than anything not to find out.

I felt Carlisle tense, "Let's hurry passed the alley, Edward and I will take you passed the Brinkley's post shop on the way to the car."

I nodded, and smiled up at him. He placed a chaste kiss on my nose, and squeezed my arm in reassurance. I wanted to be back home already, sitting on the chaise in front of the fire, with him reading me wistful stories in his native accent, and Edward offering commentary when he saw fit.

As we neared the alleyway the wet sound, which I realised was that of humans kissing, grew louder. I tried to ignore it, but I wanted to reach up and cover my ears.

"Mmm, no, baby, bank's closed," she woman whispered, and the man growled feebly. I caught Edward roll his eyes. The only thing I could think as we neared the alleyway was a little mantra that I had devised. Don't listen, don't think about it, don't listen, don't think about it. Think about Carlisle. Think about how it feels to be so safe in his arms. Think about Edward. Think about how much you love him. How much of a son he truly is. Think about how proud you are of the both of them. Don't think about the humans. Don't listen. Carlisle. Edward. Carlisle. Edward. My boys. It helped marginally.

I gritted my teeth when the alley was merely feet away. Carlisle squeezed my arm reassuringly again, "You're all right, love, you're all right."

The woman down the alley giggled, "Get your hands out from under my dress, you rascal!"

The man's reply was unintelligible.

"Mother," the child's voice ran out from far away, "Where is father? Why is he taking so long? I'm cold."

The moment my heart broke for the child and her mother, a memory came flooding back to me, and I froze._ It was three weeks before I had discovered that I was expecting, and I was tending to the housework as usual, when there was a knock on the door. It turned out to me a woman named Trish, whose face was covered in the kind of foundation that only one profession wore. She had been looking for Charles, because he owed her 'a fifty from the other night', when they 'had a real good time'. I was neither naive nor daft enough to think Charles didn't have his fun with prostitutes as well as his mistresses. I almost paid her out of my own savings – the inheritance my grandparents had secretly given me – until I decided to give it to her out of Charles' money. I knew I'd get a good beating for that, but I might need that money someday. Fifty dollars was a lot of money, considering I only had one hundred and twenty to my name. Trish was grateful that I didn't go 'off my rocker' when she 'came a'knocikn' like most wives did, but I was just happy to see her go quickly. That night was one of the worst nights in my life, he cut my arm open with the bread knife, and wouldn't let me go to hospital until the morning. _

I wasn't proud of the thoughts that popped to my mind when I listened to the man in the alley tell the woman why they shouldn't knock off his wife, it was more fun sneaking around behind her back, apparently. Nor was I proud of the low growl building in my throat. The anger ripped through me like Charles' knife once had, and I was only vaguely aware of Carlisle and Edward having a silent conversation beside me before Carlisle's arms wrapped themselves securely around my waist.

"Come on love, let's go." His gentle voice whispered into my ear.

I'd barely even realised that I had begun to move forward. Some sane part of my mind hoped that I wasn't fighting back against Carlisle too much, because that part of my mind was still me, the rest was a monster consumed by anger. The rest was the newborn.

Carlisle's voice continued to whisper soothing words into my ear as I continued to try and make my way to murder the man in the alley. My insane mind was picturing all the ways that I could do it. Quick? Long? Painless? Painful?

"I love you," Carlisle murmured, "More than the sun and more than the moon, and more than medicine, and books, and the hospital, and my patients, and learning. I love you more than I've ever loved anything in my life."

The sane part of me was touched. The insane part was annoyed. Kill, kill,_ kill._ The next thing I knew, we were back at the car. Carlisle's arms never once gave me the opportunity to break away out of his cage, despite me knowing that I could. I was still stronger than him, I took a small amount of pleasure when I realised that the monster wasn't all consuming, if it had been I was sure both Carlisle and Edward would have had to restrain me. Edward started the engine, and then sped down the street. I was still livid beside him. The monster inside of me – which was quieting with every moment and mile that passed – was demanding I go back to the alley and put an end to the horrible, unfeeling man who cared none for his family. It didn't take long for me to realise that the monster did not want to kill him at all, but rather, my monster meant to murder Charles. His face had plagued my memories all day. The man in the alley merely reminded me of my former husband… my former monster. Now _I_ was the monster.

No. I wasn't.

I wouldn't be.

I refused to throw away the life that Carlisle had given me, just to exact revenge and despise myself after. That was _not_ who I was. I was _not_ a monster. I was _not_ a murderer. I had a choice in this life and I chose the side of good. I would always choose the side of good. Sanity had mostly returned by then, but my emotions were so muddled I could not make sense of them. Like I could not make sense of the words that Carlisle murmured, I realised soon after, that his words were not intended for me.

They were intended for _both_ Edward and I. My head shot up to look at the beautiful bronze-haired boy, whose face was swimming in anguish, whose hands held the steering wheel so tight, it was about to snap.

"Edward?" I murmured quietly, "Are you all right?"

He looked down at me in shock. He had seen all that I had seen, he had relived my memories, and he had heard everything that was happening in their minds. My heart throbbed with sadness for the boy. I wanted to take all of his pain away, for it hurt me to see his features so twisted and distorted with torment. If my pain had to be doubled, tripled, intensified by a million times, I would take it all, just to spare him from it.

"Esme, I…" he murmured, and I hoped fervently that he wouldn't apologise for _my _memories, "I'm all right," he sighed, and some of the pain evaporated from his features, "Are you?"

Am I? Confusion coloured my mind once again, am I all right from wha… Oh, God. What did I just do? I plotted to kill a man in cold blood. I embraced the monster that sought to murder. Guilt came crashing down on my chest like the weight of the world.

"Esme, you're a newborn," Edward whispered. His eyes never left my face, shouldn't he be watching the road?

"Esme, love?" Carlisle wondered, and the guild came harder and faster. I was only thinking mere moments ago of how much I wanted to make him proud, and now he must be so disappointed. I wanted to be out of the car, and up in my room to wallow away until I could convince myself he'd forgive me again.

"No," Edward growled, "That would be the opposite of helpful. This day was a success Esme, you didn't slip."

_But I WANTED to KILL him! _My internal monologue screamed back. That was no success.

"He deserves to die," Edward growled, and Carlisle gasped. I wasn't quite sure if we were talking about the man in the alley, or Charles.

"Edward, think about what you're saying. Please." Carlisle murmured in a soft voice.

"Carlisle, you don't understand," Edward growled. We were flying down the long road home, and I was sure at the speed Edward was going, we'd be there soon. I didn't think automobiles could actually go quite as fast as Edward managed from the Cadillac. The self-disappointment continued to crush me as we sped through the night, and the silence that had come over the three of us was deafening. Carlisle's arms were still wrapped around me, but they were no longer restraining, now they were comforting. Comfort that I did not deserve. I was glad he wasn't still murmuring how much he loved me… that would have made the guilt worse. How daft I was to believe that I could be good enough for him. If I was a stronger person, I would have done something about that, but I wasn't a strong person, and I was selfish, I needed Carlisle and I wasn't about to give him up anytime soon. Unless of course, he wanted me to… That was an unpleasant thought.

Edward turned onto the driveway, and sped down the gravel path, shooting small stones in every direction. I focussed on clearing my head, calming myself and doing away with the guilt and disappointment. _Six more months_, I thought, _six more months and you'll be normal again_. Maybe in six months I could try to go out during the daytime, I was sure that I could control my thirst, I had to. Truthfully, the burning in my throat had paled in comparison to the emotions that raged through me in town.

_Esme,_ hissed a voice in my head, _Stop thinking about it, let it go, clear your mind, and breathe._

I nearly groaned, I really didn't need a repeat of the debacle with the stairs, especially with Edward sitting right next to me. Surely he'd think I'd lost my mind. I almost expected a half smile from him at that, but he was too enraged to find humour in my insanity.

I felt some tension arrive in Carlisle's arms, and I wondered what had him worried. I couldn't bring myself to turn around and check his eyes, for I feared what I would find in them. Deep down inside I knew he would not show his disappointment – if he even felt it, perhaps he thought the evening had been a success, like Edward did? – but the less rational, and much louder part of my brain was convinced that his eyes would be filled with a deep and gut wrenching betrayal of how let down he felt. I wanted to comfort him, and to ease the unpleasant emotion that I could tell was eating at him, but I couldn't bring myself to dismiss the immense regret I felt. If my being with Edward and Carlisle had taught me anything, it was that I had a right to _feel_.  
Edward parked the car in front of the house, not bothering to take it to the garage, and Carlisle's arms loosened around me. I knew I needed to have a moment to myself, to gather my thoughts, and to stop the volatile emotions that ripped through me. Edward hopped out of the car, and so I moved too, slipping out of Carlisle's hold, and across the long front seat, until my feet dangled out of the driver's door. Once they hit the ground they didn't stop moving. I could hear Carlisle calling out to me from behind, but I had to ignore him. It took me all the strength I had. My emotions were still far too wild to be able to have a coherent and intelligent conversation with him. I wanted to rip heads of bodies, and limbs from limbs, which was a very disturbing thought. It wasn't until I had passed through the front door that I realised I only wanted to rip one head off of one body and two arms of that singular torso, with the two legs following quickly thereafter, and that body was my own. Which was a more disturbing thought? To this day, I still don't know.

I took the stairs three at a time, not letting them grab at the chance to change my mind as they once had done. I vaguely listened to the front door opening behind me, as I reached the top of the stairway and darted to my room. I closed the door softly behind me, I needn't slam it; they shouldn't think my pain was their doing. It was solely my own. As gently as I could, I tore the coat off of my body, and threw it on top of the dresser with my hat, scarf, and gloves, then pulled my hair out of the curled up-do I had fashioned it into. I didn't deserve to feel beautiful. I deserved to feel disastrous, like a real monster that _wanted _to kill people. Kicking off my heels, I collapsed onto the bed, and buried my head in the pillows. I wasn't lying there long before the soft steps I knew well ascended the stairs. I expected my stomach to churn with apprehension, but the thought of Carlisle only brought relief. I needed him to help me. I needed him. Full stop. I experienced a moment of sheer dread as I considered the possibility that he may be climbing the stairs to go to his room, and not mine. In that very moment my emotions suddenly flicked to annoyance, why on Earth did we even bother with the charade? His room should be my room, and mine should be his. We were going to be together forever, weren't we? What was with all the sidestepping to make room for tradition? _I _wanted to be _his _mate. _Now._ Flaming hot desire replaced the annoyance, before the dread returned. Oh, God, no. I couldn't do that. I couldn't force myself on him just so I would feel better. The dread turned to nausea. What had I been thinking? Then came the all-consuming grief, and emotional exhaustion. I felt like I got whiplash from the mass of conflicting feelings that plagued my body all the span of less than the second it took for him to climb a single step.

I held my breath when he reached the top, the grief mixing with the dread, and anxiety. If he turned to his room, would I have enough control to stay where I was? Or would I go running after him, and tackle him in his private quarters? Impatience welcomed itself into my system. _Choose already, Carlisle!_ The different emotions were playing tug of war inside of my body, fighting to see who would be the strongest. As usual, the grief won. A single sob escaped my throat, and Carlisle quickly turned to the right. He knew I needed him. He was coming to save me. The sound of my sob sped up his pace, and before the impatience could sneak back into my body, he was at my door. He didn't knock; he merely placed a hand on the wood, and whispered through it, "Esme?"

I whimpered involuntarily in reply.

"My love, may I come in?"

His soft and gentle voice tore through my strength and opened the floodgates for the sobs to rip me apart.

_Yes._ I wanted to say, _Yes, come in and help me, save me, fix me like you always do. I don't want to feel like this for another second. Please._ I wanted to beg him, I wanted to plead, but I couldn't even answer him, I could only cry.

"She says yes, Carlisle." Edward's voice muttered darkly from below, before a thunderous melody erupted from the piano. Edward's fingers could make anger and devastation sound so beautiful.

"Esme?" Carlisle's hands were hesitant on the doorhandle. He wouldn't take Edward's word for it.

Between sobs, I managed to choke out my affirmation, and the doorhandle quickly turned. I did not look up when Carlisle walked into the room, but I could hear his soft steps as he made his way over to the bed. Desire and fear fought for pride of place in my system as I wondered where he would sit. Much to my relief, I heard him kneel on the floor by my bed, and I realised, he'd left the door open. The fear and desire evaporated, once again leaving only the grief. Carlisle's hands came to rest on the top of the bedspread.

"Esme?" He whispered, his voice was cautious, worried… scared. Pain seared through my heart when I realised that I must have done something to frighten him. _But what?_ The now familiar dread welcomed itself back into my stomach to return waltzing with the emptiness there. "Esme?" He repeated in the same tone that was almost a whimper.

The grief overflowed, and I pushed myself up, anger and confusion began volleying for grief's place, "I _wanted _to kill him." I wailed, "_Wanted_. I wanted to be a monster, to make sure he never lived another day on this Earth. I wasn't thirsty for his blood, but I craved hearing his last breath." My chin trembled, and the whites of my eyes would have been a violent shade of red had I a working circulatory system.

His fear evaporated, and morphed into the strange mix of wise compassion, and fervent love, "Esme, so did I." His voice was barely audible, and for a moment I was convinced that I must have imagined the words slipping out of his mouth, but I knew I hadn't. The confusion did away with the anger, and almost rid me of my grief.

"What do you mean?" I whispered, the sobs had subsided.

"_Him._" He whispered back, "I wanted to kill him. And sometimes I still do. I _hate_ him."

Realisation flawed the confusion, and hysteria saw its chance. Carlisle was talking about Charles.

My chin began to quiver once more, as I divulged a secret I had even kept from Edward. "Me too." I admitted in a whisper.

Carlisle's face was coloured by relief, as he reached for my hand, "I love you."

I clenched my teeth together, to try and stop the sobs that were returning quickly, it was hard to talk, but I needed to return his sentiments. "Me too," I managed once more, and he let out a chuckle. His face lit up with more relief, and slight happiness.

Consumed by the need to be in his arms, I crawled towards him, forgetting somewhat about my being on the bed. I slid off the edge and landed on my knees, dissolving into his arms. I could tell he found the scene funny, but he was trying not to laugh for my sake. The sobs were still making me shake.

"I think you just fell off of your bed." He whispered into my hair, as he let out another chuckle.

"Me too!" I wailed into his shoulder, my voice was nearly hysterical.

His arms tightened around me, pulling me closer to his body, until I was half on top of his bent knees, "Esme?" he breathed, his voice taking on a new edge of desperation.

"Yes?" I managed to reply through the hiccup-like-breaths I was taking to stop the sobs.

"Will you marry me?" He murmured, in such a tone it was almost as if he was asking a common place question, exactly the way he had asked me what my favourite colour was a decade ago.

I should not have felt as surprised as I did. Abruptly the sobs, and the hiccup-like-breaths stopped, the grief and hysteria evaporated, giving way to surprise, and … love, but just as I was about to provide my answer, the hysteria returned, and my single word came out as another wail, "Yes!"

I threw my weight on him a little more than I had intended to, and suddenly I was lying on top of him on the floor. He was chuckling beneath me, his arms wrapped around me tightly. How strange it was that he had made my cocktail of disaster into one of the most glorious moments of my life.

"I have something for you," he murmured, still holding me tightly to his chest.

"You do?" I wondered, making no move to get up. I thought that he must know I liked our position far too much to move, and part of me thought that perhaps he did too.

"Yes, it's very special," he murmured, his arms tightened their hold on me, making it known that he didn't want to let go.

I giggled, "Would you like me to get up?"

He sighed, and began to pull his arms away, "In all honesty, not really, but I don't suppose it's very gentlemanly to hold you here like this."

I grinned and sat up, manoeuvring off of his body so he could do the same. He gave me a wary smile as he straightened his trousers, and I was sure I missed something, but before I could truly wonder what it was, Carlisle reached into his pocket. I cocked my head to the side, wondering what he wanted to give me that was small enough to fit in a pocket.

I shouldn't have been so surprised at what he pulled out, but I'll admit that I was. The last thing I was expecting to see come out of that pocket was the small ring he held up to me.

I felt my eyes widen considerably, he had already purchased a ring! It could truly only mean that he'd been planning on asking for a while, which did make sense to my rational mind, but the irrational part was still in command.

"How long have you had that?" I wondered, gazing at him, and not the ring.

He shrugged, but smiled warily, "I bought it in Duluth, with the telescope."

My eyes widened and my dead heart throbbed. The tiny doubtful voice that I'd been suppressing in my mind – a voice that Charles Evenson had masterfully created – was crushed and then drowned as I realised that he was not proposing just to make me feel better. He wanted me to be his wife. Me, the woman who pinned him to the floor of her bedroom, with her wild curls dangling all over the place, who wailed at him in hysteria moments before like a wayward banshee. Me, the girl who climbed trees, who refused to wear corsets and put 'being ladylike' at the very bottom of her list of most important things to be. _Me._

This realisation made me beam, and then my eyes fell on the small ring in his nimble (yet large) surgeons fingers. Every part of my being, aside from my eyes, froze.

The ring was utterly beautiful.

It was a small thing, understated; nothing like the gawky colourful things I'd seen many women sporting in recent years. It reminded me of my grandmother's ring. Hers was a tiny diamond from a South African mine in 1872, it was elegant and beautiful, but it paled in comparison to mine. The diamond sat pride of place in the middle of the ring, not big, and not small either, the perfect in between size. The gold band that supported it was comprised of one thin golden band, and one thin diamond and gold band that wound around each other infinitely.

With its shape he promised me eternity – never ending days and never ending nights, never ending storms and never ending sunshine. With the diamond he promised me beauty – green trees and orange trees, blue skies and grey skies, turquoise waters and light blue seas, he promised me _eternity._ It was not perfect because it _was_ beautiful, it was perfect because it _meant_ beautiful. Just like him. Forever I would have one of his decisions on my hand, a stray thought, a sudden love, forever I would have a piece of his soul on me. Forever, I would have him.

"Do you like it?" He murmured, the curiosity in his voice masked the worry quite well, but not well enough to deceive me.

"Mother always told my that I should be coy," I whispered breathlessly, "To never say love and always say like, but I _love _it. I absolutely love it."

For that moment I forgot that it was destined for my finger, and he'd no doubt want to put it on, but my arms were destined to be wrapped around him, and they couldn't stand not being that for a minute longer. I flung my arms back around his neck and buried my face in his chest. He held me with just as much vigour.

Then he chuckled, "Would you like to wear it?"

I nodded into his chest but did not move back. He chuckled harder.

"My love, I would really like for you to let me put it on. It would ease some of my anxiety to get this on your finger."

I giggled and loosened my stronghold on him, "Why are you anxious? You know you have me forever."

He gazed at me tenderly, "Because you seem far too good to be real, my darling."

"That's funny," I held my left hand out for him to place on it, the ring, "That's how I've always felt about you."

He smiled to himself, as he lightly held his hand in mine, and began to slide the ring onto my finger, "Then I suppose this means we have forever to try and convince ourselves that we're real."

We both gazed at the gold and diamond sparkling on my hand, "Impossible," I whispered, "But I can do forever, gladly."

He slowly brought my hand up to his lips, and murmured before he kissed it, "As can I. Forever by your side."

His lips were gentle and soft on my hand, as I watched the emotion in his eyes. I had never seen them burning with so much joy. My heart threatened to take flight when I realised that _I_ had brought him that. So I vowed to myself then and there, my purpose of this life, this indefinite, eternal and extraordinary life, was to make him smile _that_ smile.

I have next to nothing. I have nothing that is perceived as _of worth_. I've no money, no friends, no status, and I cannot give him children. But I do still have me. I have my mind, so wild and untameable, a fire hidden beneath year's worth of insecurities, which he brings out and douses with kerosene. I have my heart, gentle and pure, seeds buried beneath an age of hurt, which he's discovered and waters with holy water, and I have my body, strong and immortal, riddled with frozen hormones that were raging through my veins the night that I died – the hormones that allow a mother to love her child unparalleled amounts. I shouldn't be what he wanted. For some reason, though – and only God knows why – those were the very things that his un-beating heart desired.

* * *

_A.N. Once again, hello my lovey readers! First of all – for those of you who wanted something a little more romantic for the proposal, Carlisle is a little miffed at his lack of self control when it came to asking for Esme's hand, but he is planning a more romantic way to re-ask her in a way. For you hopeless romantics that I'm not fluffy enough for ;) _

_Other than that, I thought to myself – I don't want Esme to slip again, but she's still a newborn so she can't get off scot-free… That's why I relied heavily here, upon the newborn emotions. Which we know from Ms. Meyer's books are very hard to control. _

_Thank you all once more for your unbelievably amazing reviews! Welcome to my new followers, thank you to my new favouriters, and I'm sending a lot of love out to my regular followers._

_Much love x_


	37. You Have My Heart, You Are My Love

_Chapter Thirty-Seven: You Have My Heart, You Are My Love_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, October 1921_

_Carlisle_

Ashland's general hospital – St. Joseph's – was a four storey, red brick building, with an imposing red tower nearby. The very first thing one would view of the hospital, was the Lord's cross at the very top of the tower, and every time my eyes fell upon that beautiful symbol of sacrifice and love, I'd close my eyes and raise a thankful prayer to the Lord above. Although I had experienced the long bout of loneliness, when it was easy to fall into the pit of self-pity, I knew deep down that no matter how alone I may be, my life was never empty. My work at the hospital was proof enough of that. However, now that I had a son and a loving fiancée – my heart swam with such glee at the mere thought of Esme Anne Platt being _my _fiancée – it was obvious to anyone that my life was positively brimming with love and joy. I had never once felt quite so full. I thought of the cross then, as I walked the quiet wooden halls of the old building, and I was momentarily saddened that I'd not be able to see it from the small window in my office on the very top floor. There was a beautiful side to faith, one that the faithless may struggle to see, of the true and sincere love between the Lord and His children. Although I felt Him always, my days were filled with stray moments that His presence was almost tangible by my side. Strangely, those moments had been more frequent when Esme was also by my side. Perhaps it was the happiness that made this so, perhaps I could feel His love more when I could feel hers, or perhaps that was His way of telling me He'd sent her to my side, that I had done the right thing by changing her – or as she'd put it, by saving her life. I'd like to think that was true. Although my father – the priest – would have disapproved strongly of my marrying a woman who knew no faith, my Father – the Lord – gave His blessing, I knew. For it was plain as day to anyone who met her, although Esme knew no faith herself, she was one of the Lord's finer creations. It was her who cemented my faith in the fact that as vampires we retained a soul, because it was impossible that she should not have one. Edward too, for that matter. I knew Esme's soul, and I loved it more than I thought possible. They truly were the three things that made my life full. Esme, Edward, and the Heavenly Father, all the rest was just the garnishing on top. I could live a full and happy life if I were not practising medicine, but truly and fervently hoped I would never have to experience that.

I climbed another flight of wooden stairs, and gazed at another length of white wall, as I made my way to my office. I admired the colour of the sky outside when I reached the third floor, and was able to look out the window once again. The world had kept on turning, as promised, and the first hints of the morning twilight were lightening the horizon. I checked my watch, it was six o'clock, one more hour and then I'd be leaving for home. I sighed, the emergency room was quiet, and I had a pile of paperwork to work my way through, yet I'd rather be home with Esme. What was that woman doing to me? I grinned at the thought of the happiness she'd brought into my life. My smile, however, quickly faded as I meandered into hearing range of a particular conversation I never fancied hearing.

"You know I think it's just a ruse," Ruby chirped flippantly, "I don't think she's real. It's probably just made up by some lady who he turned down."

I heard another woman – undoubtedly Mable – sigh heavily, before she replied in a very wary tone, "So it didn't go well with Jimmy last night?" Papers ruffled as I imagined Ruby – blonde hair and brown eyed, with a few too many buttons on her uniform undone – shooting daggers at the older woman's uninterested expression.

"It went just fine with Jimmy, thank you very much."

"But you're still hung up over Doctor Cullen, aren't you Ruby?" Mable's voice had an edge to it that I had never heard before. I tried not to listen to their voices as I approached – which was an unfortunately inevitable thing if I were to get this paper work done – but the muted noise from all other directions was too quiet to drown out the women's voices. Fighting against my vehement desire to turn around and walk the other way, I carried down along the corridor, gazing out at the dark sky.

Ruby sighed wistfully, "Who isn't?"

"Well, I'm not," the older woman replied matter-of-factly, "I know when the game is over. Doctor Cullen has a sweetheart and I'm keeping my nose out of it."

"Oh Mable," Ruby sighed exasperatedly, "You give up too quickly." She paused and considered Mable's words for a moment, "I'm not complaining though, it means less competition for me."

Mable laughed sarcastically, "Yes, as if you ever saw me as a threat, Ruby."

I had to stifle a grin at Ruby's words, if only she had met Esme, then she'd really see the reason my heart had been irreversibly taken by such a sweet soul. I took a deep breath as I reached the end of the corridor, and willed myself to face the inevitable task of walking passed them. It was, perhaps, one of the most unpleasant aspects of my job. Nurses.

I was met by two sets of bulging eyes when I had mastered the confidence to turn the corner, and then quickly afterwards, the surprised eyes turned into two different smiles. One was flirtatious, and the other was welcoming, unsurprisingly, I returned the latter.

"Doctor Cullen!" Ruby exclaimed gleefully, as she righted herself out of her leaning pose against the wall, and tried miserably to make it look as though she was being productive.

"Doctor Cullen," Mable nodded afterward, still smiling warmly. It was not in my nature to ignore such smiles, so my welcoming grin in return, stayed upon my face.

"Ladies," I murmured politely with a slight nod, "How are we?"

Ruby beamed, and blinked a few times, jutting one hip out to the side, "All the better for seeing you!" She spoke in a high-pitched voice that hurt my over sensitive vampire ears.

Mable shot her a disapproving glance, and then turned back to me, her expression was almost apologetic, "Well thank you, Doctor. And yourself?"

"I am very well thank you," I murmured, not once stopping since I'd rounded the corner. I managed to get perhaps a foot passed them before Ruby jumped out and grabbed my arm.

"Doctor Cullen?"

I pursed my lips at the contact, and she let go. Raising my eyebrows I met her eyes, "Yes?"

Her heartbeat accelerated at my gaze, and I mentally chided myself for being so careless. Eye contact with a vampire could induce one of two things, fear – which I was never very good at accomplishing, or fascination – which I always seemed to manage. I blinked quickly, breaking her gaze, and fixed my eyes upon her nose. It was not nearly as adorable as Esme's.

"Have you heard of the new club that opened up in Duluth the other week? I can't stop thinking about how nice it would be to go dancing there one day!" She asked wistfully.

I smiled noncommittally, "If dancing is something one likes, then I'm sure it would, I can't say I'm much of a dancer myself. The ball was a little too much for me the other month. I think I've had enough dancing for the remainder of the decade."

Mable chuckled, "I know what you mean."

I gave her a smile, I had observed Mable's two left feet at the dinner weeks back. I could imagine her distaste for dancing would be quite strong; mine however, was just the opposite. I was merely very selective of my partner – I could think of only one woman I would ever love to dance with.

"Oh, that's a shame," Ruby sighed moving back to the nurse's station and gathering her papers, "I thought it would have been fun to go as a group. My sweetheart and I, your sweetheart and you. No matter. Perhaps I'll see if Doctor Gregson and his wife like to dance."

I smiled and nodded, moving to turn away, but Ruby stopped me again, "I say, Doctor Cullen, my lady friends and I gather once a month for luncheon in town, and I was wondering if perhaps you could pass on my invitation to your Anna? Us ladies are positively dying to meet her." Ruby was a fantastic actress, but my heightened senses could see the malice hidden deep in her eyes. I knew very well that the female population of Ashland was dying to meet Esme – or Anna, as they so thought she was called – but I also knew that Ruby most certainly did _not _want my sweetheart at her luncheon. She merely wanted me to admit that I had a sweetheart, not that the fact would in anyway halt her advances. I hoped Esme wasn't to attached to the idea of seeing Ashland by day, I feared her presence would attract too much attention, and there was the matter of her being supposedly dead. There would be a great deal of trouble if someone were to recognise her. We would have to go somewhere else, no matter, Washburn was close enough, and it was smaller, so the thirst would bother her less.

I gave Ruby a tight smile, merely professional, I hoped she understood my body language, "Thank you for your offer, Nurse Simmons, however, Miss Masen is unwell and as much as I think a luncheon would cheer her up, she's truly not fit enough to be out of the house, and I doubt Mr. Masen would agree to accompany her to such a do, even if she were not as ill as she is at the moment. I'll pass on your sentiments to her."

After recovering from her momentary nose disjointment, Ruby smiled and took my rejection graciously, "Thank you, Doctor Cullen. I hope she finds herself in good health again very soon."

I gave her a small nod before I turned around, silently thanking the Good Lord in Heaven that she had done the same. My thanks were, however, quite premature, for mere moments later, when I had not managed to get very far away at all, I was interrupted by a small scream, the sound of papers flying everywhere, and the nasty smack of a body landing on wood. I turned around to see Ruby lying on the floor. This was a particular ploy I had seen many nurses employ over the years. If you could not get a man to be gentlemanly to you on his own merits, you must then force him to do so. Part of my mind contrasted Esme to Ruby, how her personality was so much more desirable, she possessed strength of spirit that never saw her throwing herself on the floor for attention.

Doing my obligatory gentlemanly duties, I rushed over to Ruby and helped her up. She blushed at the contact, and tried to catch my eye, but I made it exceptionally obvious that I was helping her in a strictly professional manner, "Are you all right, nurse?"

I let her go as soon as she was standing on two feet once more, and she nodded, then laughed in what must have been intended as an alluring way. If only she knew the way to my heart would have been with a witty comment, like Esme would have made.

"Oh yes, I'm just clumsy." She blushed, and I ignored the extra heat in the air, and the increased potency of her blood. It was just as mouth-watering as any other human's, but after a quarter of a millennia, I was accustomed to denying my thirst.

"Did you trip?" I wondered, examining the floor behind her.

"Yes, on thin air it seems." She giggled, trying to reach out for my arm as she pretended to steady herself.

I caught Mable's disapproving glance, and gave her a knowing smile.

"Perhaps you should stay away from the dancing circuit then, nurse. Just until your equilibrium is restored to normal, these things happen. Have you experienced a fever lately? Sore ears?"

"Uh, no?" Her brow furrowed, my questioning was throwing her off her prepared design of how to woo Carlisle Cullen.

"Hmmm, perhaps it was just a moment of clumsiness then, I have work to do, but I can find another doctor to look over you, if you would like?"

Ruby's demeanour finally frosted over, sensing my detachment, "No, thank you. I am fine."

I stepped back and nodded, "Very well then, do be more careful nurse. Those incident reports are awfully long to fill out." Giving them both a farewell smile, I left, trying my best to avoid my escape appearing too desperate and rushed.

"He didn't buy that for a second," I heard Mable whisper to Ruby, who huffed.

"If I see this Anna Masen, she better watch out. She'll trip on the sidewalk and break her pretty little nose if I had my way." Ruby snarled, and I fought the urge to growl, which was a natural reaction to ones mate being threatened, even though Esme was in no danger at all.

"You think Doctor Cullen would change his mind about her if she had a broken nose? You are aware that noses heal, aren't you? Because if you aren't, I may have to report you."

I sighed and hurried down the corridor, round the corner and up the stairs, so I was far enough away to avoid the remainder of their conversation. It was a great relief when I found myself alone in my office. I relaxed in my chair and pulled out the papers I needed to finish, quickly forgetting the nurses downstairs, in favour of filling my mind with medicine and my family. Never had my mind known a place so filled with peace. When the clock chimed seven o'clock, and the morning twilight was in full swing, I ducked out of my office and dashed down to the ground floor, mercifully missing more of my colleagues. I sent a prayer of gratitude to the Lord when my eyes fell on the tall cross, and jumped in my car with excitement bubbling in my veins, making it a hard task to move slow.

I quickly navigated my way out of the center of Ashland town, away from the giant redbrick building, and depressed the gas pedal lower when my tyres hit the rural roads leading to our small house. As I drove, I became intoxicated by the fait remainders of her scent that whirled around the car from the night before, and the passenger seat suddenly became noticeably empty. I couldn't help but picture her beside me, perched on the edge of the seat, looking around wide-eyed as she devoured the sunrise drenched landscape with her hungry eyes. The morning light was rising in yellows, pinks, and whites, behind the ever-present cloud cover. The gravel road beneath the tyres crunched in protest of the pressure as the Wisconsin winds blew through the golden trees. I could almost hear her soft voice whisper something wondrous about beauty. I tried to press the pedal down further, but it was down as far as it would go. As I drove impatiently my mind wondered back to the events of last night. I chuckled to myself, as I thought of my sitting on the couch in the early evening, trying to decide how I would ask her for her hand. I had pictured her standing by the shore of the small lake with the cove, as I whispered to her poetic promises of my undying love, but the thought had made me feel somewhat self-conscious. I'd then pictured the pair of us in the old church she'd found in the forest, her wearing one of her finer dresses, me in one of my finer shirts, together underneath the leafy canopy, her standing, me on one knee, ring in my fingers. I'd not decided on how I would ask her as I sat on the floor of her bedroom with my heart aching at her sadness. When she had clambered onto the floor in the most endearing way possible, the words had poured out of my heart in unstoppable waves. I couldn't help it, I needed to ask her, and then she said yes. The feeling of her accidently overbalancing me and her body lying atop mine as she clung to me for dear life, sobbing into my chest as though I could help her breathe was one of the best feelings I'd ever experienced. Truthfully, I had no reason to want anything about my proposal to be any different. Yet, some part of my mind was still annoyed that I didn't give her the romance I had planned. My darling little apple would have never asked for anything more, but she deserved to have everything. The impatience grew once more at the slow speed of the car, naturally, running would have been quicker, and it was a remarkably tempting idea to park the car on the side of the road and run, but I resisted said temptation in favour of propriety. I could almost see Esme's grin, and hear her quiet giggle teasing me.

Suddenly, the amount of graded potentials firing in my brain became enough to cross the threshold and my neurons fired. I knew _exactly _what to do for my little apple.

I quickly slowed the car and pulled over to the side of the road, hoping fervently that I was not in either of their hearing ranges, and slipped out of the car. I let the trees envelop me as I tried to find my bearings. I was not overly familiar with my distant neighbours property, but I did happen upon one gem in December of last year, when I came a little too close to my neighbour's house. The old man had an enormous property (I was unsure if even he knew the full size of it), and one very ferocious guard dog. I had made the mistake of meeting the poor guard dog on that fateful December day that I ran a little too close for comfort, and immediately his growls turned to whimpers, and he's not been the same since. I had only ever met our neighbour once, when he came into the hospital for treatment on his leg after he had suffered a fall, the poor man was nearly blind, and he was rapidly approaching eighty. It was truly miraculous he'd lasted that long. For that reason, I felt safe trespassing on his property, I was fairly certain he would not notice the few things that I had planned to steal.

Edward and Esme had never ventured into the forest on the right hand side of our driveway, instead always favouring to go straight out the back door, or to the right, so I was fairly certain they were oblivious to the hidden gem I had found there. I held my breath in hope that I was not too late to miss the harvest season. From the limited books that I had read I knew apples were reading for picking from August to October, but I fretted that the October apples would merely be the odds and ends.

Yes, my neighbour's hidden gem was a giant apple tree; I chided myself for not considering it before. Apples were the perfect solution.

The trees began to thin as the towering giant came into view. It sat in a small clearing, filled with rotting and bruised fruits. In a matter of seconds I had whipped around and cleared all the bad fruit away. I scaled the trunk and scoured the tree for the eleven most perfect apples that I could find. The tree was large and spacious inside, a maze of think branches and leaves that were still holding on to their green colour, and everywhere I looked an orb of red caught my eye. It did not take long for me to find the large fruits that I so desired, so I turned and ran back to the car at full speed, my arms brimming with ripe, red apples. I could almost hear Edward's laughter at the sight of his father dashing through the forest with stolen apples that he could never eat. He would either find this touching, or hilarious.

I carefully placed the fruits in the backseat, being careful not to bruise their delicate flesh, and clambered into the front seat, more excited now that I had been before. I depressed the accelerator to the floor once more and sped off down the gravel road toward our wooden home. I knew Edward could hear me before I could hear the piano, but I waited until the wheels turned onto the driveway before I informed him of my plan. I showed him the apple tree, and the route to get there, as well as the imagined visual that I had concocted of how this would look. _I just need a short time to get it all prepared in the garage. Would you keep her busy for me? Give me a nod or a shake of your head when I get inside, but don't let her notice… She always notices._ I heard him chuckle and I knew he was agreeing that she was observant, but of course, most vampires were.

I sped down the driveway and parked the car safely in the garage, not bothering to shut the door. Eagerly making my way toward the house, I couldn't help but let my excitement influence my speed. There were very few feelings that truly compared to that of coming home to a house filled with people who love you, after spending hundreds of years alone. I turned the doorhandle and slipped through the open door in one fluid motion, and there she was, walking down from the washroom, wearing her pink and white spring dress, which had – how did she describe it? 'A light, two-tiered lace trimmed overdress, with a long shawl collar and kimono sleeves, and a lace waist band over a darker slip-like dress,' she'd laughed and said, 'The catalogue called it dainty and becoming.' I had then called it beautiful, and kissed her head. It was especially beautiful when coupled with her ripped pink curtain as a hair ribbon, and her tiny shoe-less feet as she wore it now. She beamed at me as I gazed at her, positively awestruck.

"Hello," she murmured, failing to stifle a small giggle, the light caught the newest addition to her person, my ring, and my awestruck expression turned to one of glee, "How was your shift?" She wondered.

I opened my arms for her to walk into and she gladly did, "It was good, thank you, but I found I missed you terribly."

She reached up and took the hat off my head, putting it on the small table by the door, and then brushed the fallen hair out of my eyes, her expression was filled with tender joy and love, "I missed you too."

Edward sighed from the other room, causing Esme to giggle, she reached up on her tiptoes to quickly give me the softest kiss, like butterfly wings, before she pulled back and helped me take off my scarf. It was a strange – yet unbelievably welcome – new experience, having a woman welcome me home in such a way. Never before had Esme welcomed me home like this, like a wife welcomes her husband. The novelty feeling was something that I would very much like to experience for the rest of my days. Before I could sweep her in my arms and kiss her again, Edward appeared in the doorway. Esme placed my scarf with the gloves on the table, and as she did so, Edward gave me an infinitesimal nod. I beamed.

"I think that's a great idea, Carlisle." Edward murmured, and excited glint coming into his eyes.

Knowing this was how I'd get time to myself in the garage, I played along, "You do?"

He nodded, and looked to Esme, "Carlisle was just admiring your painting, and my piano, and he wondered how well either of us could do at the other's hobby. I think my painting skills for the small scale might be better than my painting skills for the large scale."

Esme and I both chuckled; remembering the one time Edward had painted the grass white.

"So what do you say, my lovely mother? Will you teach me to paint?" He wondered, his eyes so bright with excitement, I knew she'd have a hard time saying no.

She raised an eyebrow, "Now?"

He nodded, grinning, and she turned to look at me. I could see the longing in her eyes, I knew she wanted to spend time by my side, and I could see the question there too, would I be partaking in her painting lesson?

"I think it's a good idea, love," I tucked away the wayward tendril of her hair that I so dearly loved, "I have a few odd jobs that need doing in the garage, so would you mind if I pop out and quickly do them? Perhaps after we could light a fire and have a family day?"

She smiled, and nodded, I knew she wasn't overly thrilled with letting me go soon after I had come home, just as I was not overly thrilled either, but it was for a good cause, and she adored spending time with Edward.

"All right," she murmured, and turned to grin at Edward, "Perhaps you should put some old clothes on, darling. You do have a habit of getting things everywhere."

He chuckled, and dashed up the stairs, "Good idea."

Her lips pulled up into a lopsided smiled, "Perhaps I should too."

I laughed, "If you're going to be anywhere near him when he has paint, I would definitely recommended it. This dress is far too lovely let him stain."

She beamed up at me, and I ducked my head for another kiss, this time a much longer one, before remembering our son was in the house and listening. I shooed her up the stairs chuckling as she giggled, and made my way through the living room and into the study. I dug out a box of spare candles that I kept in case of emergency, and headed for the garage.

"I'll be back in soon," I murmured, exiting out the kitchen door. I bolted for the garage.

Half of me was excited to begin my preparation; the other half was impatient to get back to Esme. I tried my best to ignore the latter half, but it was a great struggle. If we were to find a balance in our lives, I knew we'd have to do it the hard way, by taking our time away from one another, and not constantly needing to be by the other's side. I ducked into the large shed we used as a garage, and manoeuvred passed the car to the small workbenches that lined the left wall of the building. The very last workbench, closest to the back wall of the garage was where I stored some ancient tools. I placed the candles on top of the worktop and retrieved the apples from the car. I placed them on top of a hay bail that lay near the corner. It was a lone group of hay bails, far away from those that dominated the back right corner of the garage, but near enough that the whole floor was coated in a thin layer of hay. Esme's mice squeaked quietly from their spot in the pile of hay across the room, and I smiled to myself at her unparalleled love. It was then that I turned the opposite way, and my eyes fell on another reminder of a different unparalleled love. If I said a prayer of gratitude every time that my eyes fell upon the cross at the top of the hospital's tower, then I said two when my eyes fell upon my father's wooden cross. Esme was yet to find it – or perhaps she had found it, and thought she better not ask – sitting in the very corner of the garage, underneath a small window that often shined heavenly light on the old wood. My father had carved it before my birth, and it was the only reminder of my human life that I allowed myself to carry with me. I wasn't entirely sure why, but I couldn't bring myself to let it go. I remembered my childhood days, bending before the cross where it hung in the vicarage and praying. I remembered that I prayed for peace for my father, constant peace, not just the fleeting peace he found when he carved. Perhaps that was why I carried the cross around, perhaps it reminded me of peace. It was always peaceful in the vicarage when I prayed, for the small church was empty side the Lord and I. That was how I liked it. I bent down on my knees in the hay before the cross and closed my eyes slowly, opening my mind fully to the Lord as I gave Him more thanks for my life. I had spent a very long time trying not to feel unhappy with the life I'd been given, after my transformation, but when the initial decades had passed I had begun to feel a strange sense of gratitude that I could not quite put my finger on. It irked my naturally curious personality, _why did I feel grateful for being damned?_

I mentioned this to Esme once, just in passing, and she had smiled, giving me the words I didn't know that I had waited centuries to hear, "It's because deep down you know that the Lord is telling you that you're not damned. You were given eternity to bring good to the world. That's why." She had stated it so simply, as though it was the most obvious thing to her.

For a person who knew no faith, she understood the Lord remarkably well. I think their common ground was in the way they loved unparalleled amounts.

Adding a millionth thank you for Esme and Edward, I murmured the familiar _Amen_ and straightened myself. I reached for the draw on the end workbench. There were many specialised carving tools I took from my father's home once he'd passed, but I had not used them in a great long time. Carving never brought me the peace that it brought him; I found my peace in the pages of books. He'd taught me how to shape wood from a young age, however, and the skill was second nature to me. Mind you, I would not be requiring much skill today, so I reached for a simple knife before I closed the door, tucking the tools away once more. I moved back to the hay bails and took a seat, reaching for the first apple with a wide smiled upon my face.

I didn't quite factor in the juice of the apples… So I wasn't prepared to get as sticky as I did while I removed the core of the fruit and carved the small figures out of the red flesh. I was going to reek of fruit for days.

No matter, all in the name of love.

Once the apples were done I placed them in the box with the candles and snuck out of the garage. I could hear Esme and Edward laughing inside, a sound that made my heart fly. I slipped into the forest, hopefully unnoticed by Esme, and ran as fast as I could back to the apple tree. I happened a small creek on my way, which thankfully allowed me to remove the horrible sticky juice off of my marble skin, but it still didn't do away with the smell. I hoped Esme liked the smell of apples. I chuckled to myself at the thought, and then resumed my run to the tree.

Once there, I scaled it another time, and lined the apples up on a thick and mostly horizontal branch, before I placed a candle in the middle of each, and lit them with a match. The shade that the leaves cast on the inner space of the tree meant that the fire lit up perfectly, I just hoped the fire wouldn't end up lighting up the whole tree. That would be a mess to try and explain. Carlisle Cullen's first ever romantic gesture earns him a reputation as town pyromaniac and apple tree hater. Edward would never let me live it down.

Once I had arranged the first ten apples, I lit and hid the eleventh in a safe place for when Esme arrived – which I hoped would be before the candles went out. Edward knew to lead Esme to the tree only a short while after I had left the garage; I trusted he'd stick to the plan. Grinning to myself, I jumped out of the tree and hid the box in the surrounding forest before finally taking a seat.

I leaned up against the trunk and waited. Before long I heard the beautifully familiar footsteps flying through the forest. _Ah, good. Edward kept to the plan._ I listened intently to her as she approached. She missed every fourth step, my heart soared higher; she was doing her skipping-like-run. _She was happy_. I heard her sniff the air and I imagined her smile as she caught a whiff of my cinnamon and pear scent mixed with the freshly cut apples. Her brow would have furrowed at that last scent. I chuckled to myself quietly and I heard her speed increase. It didn't take long for my eyes to catch her pink and white dress lithely flying through the forest - she must have changed back into it, she knew it was my favourite - her caramel hair was falling out of its bun, her golden eyes were wide with glee and her lips was beaming.

"Carlisle!" She exclaimed as she reached the clearing.

"Hello, my darling," I replied casually, and gestured for her to join me.

Her eyes filled with longing at the idea, "Edward was waiting for me, I…" she trailed off, I could see understanding flood her features before she narrowed her eyes, "He's not waiting for me, is he?"

I shook my head.

"This is a set-up?" She wondered.

I nodded.

She giggled and shook her head at our antics, before dashing to my side and sliding down the trunk. She looked up to the tree above in wonder, "What is this place?"

"Our neighbour's apple tree." I murmured, transfixed by her beauty.

She shot me a grin, "It didn't even occur to me that we _had_ neighbours. Do they know we're here?"

I shook my head, and she laughed, "You're trespassing, Doctor."

Grinning, I leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "So are you, little apple."

She shook her head, "No I'm not. This is where I belong, with my fellow apples." She winked.

I laughed freely and wrapped my arm around her shoulder, and she lay her head on mine, before she sighed, my laughter sobered and I looked at her quizzically, "I feel a little silly for thinking that Edward truly wanted to learn to paint."

I felt guilty for deceiving her, especially while she was struggling so with her newborn emotions, "I'm sure he did. You know Edward, he's like me. We'll try anything."

She looked up and grinned wryly, "I think the word 'everything' is loosely applied there. I doubt you'd try to eat an apple."

I shrugged, "Well..."

She eyed me suspiciously, "Don't tell me you've tried an apple?"

I pursed my lips humorously, "I was intrigued."

Her bubbling laughter filled the small clearing, as she shook her head, "Oh, Carlisle. You really are like nothing else."

"This is a good thing, I hope."

"The very best," she grinned, tilting her chin up in her unspoken request for a kiss. I willingly obliged. I was fairly certain that I would never grow accustomed to kissing my darling Esme. As much as I enjoyed the feeling of her lips on mine, I equally relished in the knowledge that she enjoyed it all the same. I had worried, during my time in Volterra, should I have one day found a mate, that perhaps I would not be skilled at any kind of intimacy. Opening ones self up to another being was an unbelievably daunting thing after so long alone, yet with Esme, it was natural. Her presence calmed my soul.

Pulling away, she looked up at me curiously, "So why do you happen to be sitting underneath an apple tree? I would consider that you were channelling your inner Isaac Newton, but you don't have a book."

I raised an eyebrow teasingly; "I don't recall Mr. Newton having a book with him underneath his apple tree."

She smirked, "Oh, really? And am I hearing this from an eyewitness?"

I laughed, "Oh, very funny. Edward has been trying to convince you that I was the one who truly uncovered the secrets of gravity, hasn't he?"

"And Sir Isaac stole your idea, yes." She smiled fondly as I imagined her picturing Edward's face, "He would have made such a good lawyer, that boy. I swear, he could convince anyone that black is blue."

"And he'd take pleasure in that too."

She giggled, "I can't say I don't want him to. I like to see him happy."

"As do I. How _did_ your painting lesson go, by the way?"

"Oh, quiet well, thank you. Edward wasn't much a fan of blending, so I think he's more inclined to paint like Picasso would have after a few pints."

I chuckled gleefully at her dry humour, never quite expecting it. She merely watched me with an amused glint in her eyes.

"I believe it is you, my darling," I pecked her nose, "Who is like nothing else."

She smiled and cuddled in closer to my side, "If you are not being Newton, what brings you to the apple tree? I assume you've been up it, you smell an awful lot like apple juice."

"I may have got a little on me," I replied warily, to which she giggled.

"You're sure you didn't go for a swim in it?"

My laughter joined in with hers, "I very nearly did. I didn't quite expect them to be so juicy."

She eyed me curiously, "What were you doing to get the juice all over you?"

I raised an eyebrow in challenge, "Would you like to see?"

She nodded eagerly, so I stood up and pulled her with me, "It's up there," I murmured pointing to the trees, "Shall we?"

She laughed somewhat self-consciously, "You'd better go first."

I glanced at her curiously, and understood immediately as she gestured to her dress. Nodding, I scaled the tree, quietly thankful that I had indeed gone first. The tree wasn't on fire. _Good._ I quickly grabbed the apple that I had stored behind a particularly thick branch, and hid it behind my back.

"Uh, Carlisle?" Esme wondered as she claimed.

"Love?"

"Why can I smell burning apples?" She sounded rather worried.

I chuckled, "You'll see." I knew my cryptic reply was sure to get her curiosity raging like a wildfire.

I watched her intently as she made her way into the center of the apple tree, her eyes betrayed the interest that I had hoped for, but I did not provide any answers, I merely smiled. When she came to a halt in front of me, she eyed my hidden hands suspiciously.

"Carlisle," she warned with a smile, in an endearing tone I was certain she must have used on her cutest naughty students, "What are you hiding?"

I gave her my best innocent look, which was effectively ruined by the large grin I could not wipe off of my face, and shook my head, before nodding to the scene in front of us that she had missed.

Curiously, she looked around, and I took a great amount of pleasure from the small breath I heard escape her lips, and the sight of her doe eyes widening. She was silent for a moment, as she gazed ahead, and I grinned, proud of my handiwork.

She stared at the ten de-cored apples with candle-lit letters cut out of them, as I pulled the eleventh apple from behind my back. She didn't turn around to see what the final once said; her attention was too focussed on the two words that she saw.

"Esme Cullen," she whispered reading the fruit. The sound of her name mixed with mine on her tongue welcomed back the addictive feeling of my stomach lurching and my chest exploding.

She whirled around, with her hand on her heart and her wide eyes a liquid pool of love and surprise.

"Oh, Carlisle, I..." She trailed off as her eyes fell down to the apple in my hands that made her new name into a question.

I smiled at her awed face, "So what do you think? How does that sound?"

Her free hand flew up to her cheek as she slowly raised her head to meet my gaze, I could almost see the tears that would have been in her eyes, once upon a time.

"I think it sounds like a dream come true," she whispered, her voice barely audible in her emotion.

I beamed, "Me too."

She laughed at the memory of my proposal.

"I know I already asked you, and it seems a little mawkish to be asking you twice, but I had really wanted to do something special when I asked for your hand. Last night... I just couldn't wait any longer, I couldn't help myself," I let out a self-conscious laugh, "Then I thought to myself, you deserve both the proposal borne out of true emotion, and that borne from a fairytale."

Her smile was dazzling, "You spoil me!"

I grinned and nodded, "That's part of the agreement." I laughed, and let my eyes melt into hers, "When I first bought your ring, I thought about lining the sides of the cove with candles and reciting poetry, I even had one picked out, then I thought that was a little too over the top, so I considered taking you to our little church, and asking you traditionally, down on one knee, ring in my hands, heart on my sleeve. Then it dawned on me as I drove home, I knew exactly what to do for my little apple, I'd give her her Newton. I'd tell her that she doesn't have to stop falling, because I would never stop catching her. I'd tell her that I would be her savoir when gravity pulled her down, if that's what she wanted." I gingerly lowered myself down onto one knee, holding up the apple to her, "And then I'd ask her if she'd take the foolish wise man who wouldn't recite poetry to her by the lake, or traditionally ask her for her hand in a beautiful place, a man who could never take her out to dinner, or watch her hair turn grey, but a man who could love her with every inch of his being for the remainder of their shared eternity.

"See, I love you with everything that I have, and the one thing in this world that can make me truly happy is to see you happy. Esme, if you want adventures, and trees to climb, little lake coves, and birds to watch, if you want books and rooms to paint, or fires to sit in front of, it's yours. If you wanted to spend your day's waist deep in mud, then that's how I'll spend mine, if you want to swim to Europe and climb Mount Everest, or bathe in the Red Sea, I'll take you. I'd eat an apple if you'd ask me to, truly. But I know you love me enough not to ask that of me."

She laughed, and looked at me adoringly.

"Truly, my love, I will give you everything. But there are somethings, above all that I want to you to have. I want you to have a house that you can make a home, two men who adore you and are nothing without you, to love you unconditionally as your family, but more than that, I want to give you my name. So wherever you go, whenever we are, you will always know how much I love you."

She was quiet for a moment, as her chin began to tremble. "All those things are lovely," she murmured, "And they do make me happy, but do you know the one thing that makes me the happiest?"

I cocked my head to the side, preparing to assure her that I would find it straight away and bring it back to her, so she surprised me a little when she smiled and said, "You."

I beamed back at her once more, "And I am yours forever, my love. Right until the end of time, and even still then."

A sob escaped her throat as she beamed down at me, "Oh, Carlisle!"

"So, Mrs. Cullen doesn't seem like a half bad name?"

"It sounds like the very best name I could ever imagine, you have my yes again. Of course. _Of course!_" She shuddered with joy as I rose and scooped her up in my arms, spinning her around on the thin branch that supported us. She sobbed delicately in my arms, as she held me tight. And I got drunk on the idea of her becoming my wife.

Forever had never sounded so sweet as it did with her by my side, and I knew, no matter what we may have to face, no matter how uncertain or frightening this life may get, I would always have the safety and security of the one luxury that I would never believe I'd been lucky enough to receive. A woman whose soul was as pure as gold, as sweet as a summer's breeze, and as wild at Mother Earth herself. My soon-to-be wife. My soulmate. My mate. My Esme.

She pulled back quickly, "You're really not going to recite a poem?" She teased in a whisper.

I merely laughed and let the poetry of my lips against hers, speak everything that needed to be said.

* * *

_A.N. Hi again! Thanks for all your lovely reviews! I'm glad most of you seemed to like the proposal (Sorry to those of you who didn't - I lost a few followers and favourites after that chapter :( Whoops!) So for those of you who wanted something a little more textbook romance, I had this one planned. As you may have noticed I'm not used to writing textbook romance, so it was interesting to try the whole candle romance thing, it wasn't the easiest for me, I re-wrote this a few times because some parts were just too cheesy for me. Even still now...LOL. _

_There was just one part of the chapter, which I'm planning on exploring later that I wanted to mention - When Carlisle comes home and Esme seems upset that he's going back out again, I don't think this is what always happens. All the other Cullen couples seem like they can't stand to be away from one another frequently, but Esme and Carlisle are away from each other so much while he works. I have heard a lot of people say that they think that Esme resents Carlisle for this in one way or another, and I know Esme is often portrayed as a very needy and dependent person, but I think she's the exact opposite. She was preparing to be a single mother, and being a single mother takes some intense strength and I think she is a very independent person, and of course she and Carlisle have a very selfless love, but I think they have such a relationship where they **can** be away from each other. This doesn't mean they love each other any more or any less than any of the other couples, whom I believe have the same strength of love (but I am a little biased toward the Dr and his Mrs) but merely that they have a different kind of love. In the Twilight novels they have an insanely strong bond, and they're very secure in that bond (which you would be after so long together). So what I really wanted to say, was that moment is purely because their relationship is so _**new**_ and forever is such a strange concept to Esme, who is so young, she just wants to be with Carlisle. She is not afraid of being alone, she's naturally a very self-secure person in many respects, which may be currently effected still by Charles' emotional abuse. I just felt like I needed to make that known, you may disagree, but hey, difference is what makes our world beautiful!_

Again, thanks for you reviews, favourites and follows, you guys are awesome!

_Much love x_


	38. House of Secrets

_Chapter Thirty-Eight: A House of Secrets_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, October 1921_

_Esme_

I was never one to mind silence, but there were some moments I wished the house wasn't empty. Like these moments, when the dark clouds of my desolate mood threatened to turn into a full-blown storm. I tried to blow them away with winds and sunshine from my brain, but it wasn't working. I'd not stopped trying, however, so I focussed on happy things. I focussed on _happy thoughts_.

Like how I find peace in walls. I like the world, I love the breeze and the trees and the sunshine and the moonlight, but sometimes when I am feeling venerable, I don't want to feel their eyes on my skin. Walls are a solution to this strange predicament. Walls hide us from the world. More often than we require to be hidden from the gaze of the moonlight, we require to be hidden from the glares of human kind. When we are hidden inside four walls, we are safe from them, and once again, peace returns. Once again we are alone with our own thoughts – the one thing we must fully come to terms with to truly find peace in this life. Well, I find _peace_ in walls.

I find _irony_ in ceilings. We are told time and time again, that our lives should no have limits, yet we are grown and nourished in a box with a lid on, all-the-while being told to jump as high as we possibly can. That's irony enough. We grow to a certain age and we come to accept that some things just aren't possible, and limits do exist, and we _must_ respect those limits. Yet, we seem to quickly forget that ceilings are breakable. Limits are designed to be tested, so realms can be expanded, so possibilities can evolve. That is why I find irony in ceilings.

I find _security_ in floors. I sit here, perched on the windowsill of my upstairs bedroom, and the only thing that holds me up is the floor. Without the planks beneath my feet, I would be falling, but these floors hold me up. No longer do I fall. Yes, I find security in floors.

I find _hope_ in windows. When you have a box, and four walls that hide you from the world, you often have isolation, and with isolation either comes comfort or loneliness, depending on your frame of mind. The remedy for this is not to acquire a sledgehammer, like all too many people may believe, and knock down the structure, but rather, the solution is to create a window. What isolation from the world can we derive when it is within reach? Perhaps the isolation of knowing there is something we can see but that we cannot reach. Nevertheless, I find hope in windows.

I find _chances_ in doors. When the world is calling us so loudly and we know no other option than to embrace it, we require a door to allow us to escape our four walls. Doors provide us with opportunities to run out into the big wide world and chase our dreams, as well as the opportunity to run back inside our place of comfort to recuperate when the world beats us down.

Therefore, I find _love_ in houses. This has not always been the case. I've also known to associate houses with fear and pain, but that life is behind me. Six short months it has been, and my view of the world has been toppled on its head so I now find love in the wallpapered walls, white ceilings, wooden floors, bright windows and open doors of this old house. And when love can be found in a house, it becomes a _home_.

I find _myself_ in homes. If I had wanted to look at the clouds and dislike them for hiding the blue sky, I never could, because I adore the fact that they can float. If I had wanted to gaze at the rain and resent the way I was to stay inside or get wet today, I never could, because I love the feeling of the water on my face. I cannot stop my heart from loving, and I will not try to do so, so in this house I have found myself a home. Perhaps though, home is not so much a building, but rather merely a feeling. Should I be required to leave this house in the very next minute, but be able to leave with Carlisle and Edward, I should never feel as though I've no home.

If Carlisle should ask me again what my hobbies include, I might just say that he, Edward and houses are my favourite things. I wonder if that is an acceptable answer?

I gazed out the window into the raining morning once more, waiting to hear the tell-tale sounds of tyres on gravel that informed me the Cadillac would soon be in view, and I would soon be in Carlisle's arms. I found myself alone in the old house once more. Edward had cryptically announced his departure an hour ago, murmuring something about planning. Planning what? I've no idea. So there I sat, perched in the window, hair dripping from my bath, and wondering what to wear. Grey thunderclouds rumbled in my chest as my bad mood threatened to take over once more. I closed my eyes, resting my head against the warm glass that should have been cold, and pondered my newest clothes. The days following Carlisle's proposal had been some of the best days of my life, we hadn't talked much about the wedding, because we'd been so lost in our little adventures for any of that. It wasn't until a few days ago, when I was sitting alone in the attic, and Edward began to play a particular piece on the piano, which was performed at the engagement party that my mother had thrown for Charles and I, when the euphoria cracked and doubt flooded in. I managed to stop the thoughts before Edward got an earful of them, but he knew something was wrong, and I knew Carlisle could sense it too. I was just so _mad. _The feelings had come back when my newest clothes arrived, and I fell in love with my newest above the knee bloomers, which I thought I could wear on the wedding night, when I wondered what the point to all of it was, because I'd already had a wedding night, just with another man. What was the point of wearing a white dress when I was not pure? Of getting married in a church when I'd been married in a church before? The resulting anger ensured that I left those bloomers at the bottom of the draw, I'd not ordered a single wedding dress catalogue, nor had I even mentioned the wedding to Carlisle or Edward. Charles infiltrated my every thought. The boys were discussing taking me into Washburn during the day some time in the near future, but all I could think about was how worried I felt about embarrassing Carlisle, because Charles had made it perfectly clear I was exceptionally inept at being a wife. Every happy moment I had, was ruined by his voice in the back of my head. I knew why it had taken so long to happen, for my memories of Charles were much clearer now than they had been months before. I was fervently glad that I did not remember him vividly before I confessed my feelings to Carlisle, for if I had, my bravery would have been null. It had been low enough back then, it was low still now. Low and loaded with carefully cultivated insecurities.

This had been the very first time since the onset of my terrible mood that I had been alone with my thoughts, so naturally, they were drowning me.

Moving away from the window, I tried to shake the grey clouds. I flopped down onto the pink and grey bed, reached over to my sketchbook and grabbed my pencil. I'd taken to drawing our house time and time again, for some strange reason, it made me happy. My drawings, however, were not at all artistic, and perhaps more suited to a builder than an artist, yet I was unfazed.

The reason I was so enraptured with drawing our house might have been due to the mystery of it. Something about it wasn't quite right. I redrew the floor plans for the hundredth time, as I knew them, I didn't claim to know all that much about the proper measurements of houses, but I found it rather exciting to uncover the mystery of this one. I focussed on the upper level with the bedrooms in my drawings, and used the measurements I had calculated a few weeks before.

The hallway on either side of the stairs was eighteen foot long, the bathroom was just over eight foot long, and the art room was nearly ten foot long, making the house around thirty-six feet long, which I was not disputing, my problem was that my room was sixteen foot long. This meant that my room, the bathroom, and the art room having a combined length of thirty-four foot. So where were the missing two?

Carlisle and Edward's rooms were just under twenty-feet, and just over fifteen-feet long respectively, accounting for the full thirty-six feet. There was nothing wrong with the left hand side of the house, and if my measurements were correct, there was nothing wrong with the dimensions of the bathroom or the art room either, which meant that my bedroom was missing nearly two feet. It's not that I wanted the extra footage in my room, I loved it just the way it was, but the inaccuracy of it _bothered _me. Sighing and closing the book once more, I rolled onto my back and allowed the annoyance to welcome back in the anger.

If I had never married Charles, I would be a different person. I would be wild and free and happy, I would have the confidence to share the silly drawings with Carlisle, and I wouldn't think them silly. No doubt he'd smile and say 'We must uncover this mystery, fair maiden,' and give me my favourite wink with a smile, but as long as the possibility that he could say 'Does it really matter, love?' was in my mind, I'd not say a single thing. Charles would have said neither thing; instead he'd give me a glare, take a swig of whiskey and tell me to 'Quit your stupid dreaming you useless wench.'  
The only thing that bothered me about all of this was that I was comparing Carlisle to Charles. They should not be forced into the same thought. Not Carlisle, with his gentle beauty, and earnest smiles, next to Charles, with his animalistic grunts substituted for words, and rough hands constantly balled into unforgiving fists.

In all truthful honesty, _what was wrong with me?_

Perhaps I was stir crazy. No. I couldn't be. I _loved _our house. I _loved _our home. There was something else.

I pushed myself off the grey and pink four-poster bed, and landed on the warm wooden floors. I paced around the room, taking every inch in with an analytical eye. To the left of the bed was my bedroom door, closed to the world. It needed to be open. The four-poster bed was large and greatly unused, with a dark wooden frame that matched the floors. It needed a canopy. The right wall was empty. It needed a painting. The window sat opposite the bed, with it's tatty, ripped pink curtains. They needed to be destroyed. Along the left wall was my much-too-small dresser with clothes threatening to jump out. It needed to be bigger. My eyes found the floor beneath my feet. It needed a carpet.

Although there was a lot wrong with the room, I couldn't pin point what bothered me most. No doubt, the room needed some love, but it didn't yet feel ready for that. My gut feeling told me that there was something missing, perhaps that was merely my subconscious reminding me of the missing two foot somewhere. A growl rumbled from my chest. The inner thunder was starting to show. Gritting my teeth I turned back to the window, and like a ship finally coming to dock at it's home port, reason found it's place in my brain. I stood for a moment, frozen to the spot, before I flew into motion at top speed. The room wasn't missing anything at all. In fact, it had _too much_. It was the window that was revealing what was missing. _I _was. _I _was missing from _outside_. I threw on the first dress that my hands came into contact with and bolted out the door, leaving it swinging on it's hinges behind me. I whirled down the stairs and through the kitchen, only stopping when my feet met the wet wood of the back porch.

_This was a first._

I'd never been outside the house by myself before.

How could the boys possibly think I was ready to meander into town, to converse with humans, to pretend I was normal, if I'd not been able to walk in our backyard on my own before? I stepped out into the sheets of rain, and the feeling was utterly liberating. After days upon days of inner bitterness, which I refused to bother my boys with, the rain was washing it away. It dawned on me as I walked down the porch steps, that this action meant I was taking my new life into my own hands, something that I had dreamed of doing with my human life when I was young. This right here, was the equivalent of moving west to climb trees and swim in mud; this was me saying that I was strong enough to be good enough. On the day I woke up into this new life, I had decided to _follow_ Carlisle in the way he lived. On this day that I took my first steps into the rain, all alone, I was deciding that I would walk _beside_ him. I needed no encouragement to do this; I needed no one to place the idea in my head. That's what made it special. Beaming to myself, I dashed over to the fringes of the forest and I scaled the first tree that my hands came into contact with. _Risks, _a little voice in my head said, _these are good risks._

I found a thick branch to sit on and ponder the world, smiling to myself. Charles and Carlisle would come into comparison, because Carlisle was so much better than Charles, and that needed to be known. There wasn't anything wrong with me. That was key. _There's nothing wrong with me._ All of those things that they had said to break me down would be the very things I'd use to bring myself back up. Charles was wrong. Carlisle is right. I flung myself back, off of the branch, with my legs securely wrapped around the thick wood, and I hung there like a bat, thinking about how I would fight.

Thinking about how I would be all right.

It wouldn't happen instantaneously, but it would happen. I _would _tell Carlisle about my annoyance with the house, I _would _wear a white wedding dress, I _would_ get married in a church, and I _would _have a honeymoon_. _I would_ live. _

My past would not stop my future.

My mind was blank for a short while as I marvelled at what the world looked like upside down. I heard the Cadillac's tyres on the gravel road an infinitesimally small amount of time before I heard Edward's laughter.

"Esme is merely being funny," he choked out moments later, to what I assumed was an unspoken question from Carlisle, "Yes, it's also the limits of Esme's hearing range." Edward had sobered up by then, "Yes."

I sighed, on some occasions half conversations were irritating. Edward chuckled once more, as the tyres turned onto the driveway and all my previous emotions evaporated from my body as the happiness arrived in its usual flood. _Carlisle was home. Both _of my boys were home. I considered disembarking from my tree, but decided against it, no doubt Carlisle would smile at my antics. I was coming to realize that truly, now.

The car came speeding into view, and I was surprised to see Edward driving. The two boys climbed out from the front seat as the Cadillac idled outside the garage, Edward moved to open the large door, while Carlisle looked around with an amused glint in his eyes.

"I can smell you," he murmured, and I couldn't help the giggle that escaped my lips. His head whipped around to the tree that I was dangling from, and his eyes filled with delight when they found me. He was in front of me in under a second, his eyes inches from mine.

"What are you doing?" He murmured, and kissed from my forehead.

"I'm hanging," I grinned, "Upside down from a branch."

He chuckled, "I can see that, I meant to say, what are you doing outside –"

"Outside all by myself?" I wondered.

"Outside in the rain, I was going to ask," he grinned widely.

I looked to the sky, as if I needed conformation of the rain falling down, "Hmmm," I murmured, "The rain didn't really register as important to me. You're not mad that I'm out here by myself?"

His brow furrowed, "Mad? Why would I be mad?"

"Because I'm a newborn," I replied simply.

His confused expression melted into pure adoration, and he reached up to stroke my upside down cheek, "Esme, I believe in you."

His words, so simple, gave new wings to my heart, and reinforced my musings of the morning. I beamed back at him, and he chuckled, "It is very entertaining to see you from this angle, but I'm not entirely sure how easy it will be to kiss you."

I giggled, "You could try."

He kissed my nose, "Or I could hang upside down with you?" He winked.

My giggles turned into exuberant laughter, "All right, all right, I'll hop down."

I heaved myself back up into a seated position, exceptionally enthused by the lack of head rush at the movement, and then scooted off of the branch. I expected to land with my feet on the ground, not with my legs in his arms, but my witty remark died on my tongue when I noticed how close his beautiful face was, with his beautiful, proud smile.

I couldn't help but smile in return, "Hello," I whispered.

Was it physically possible for his smile to grow any larger? "Hello, my love." He murmured as he began to walk toward the house.

"This is better than I imagined," my breath came out in a whoosh of air.

He arched a perfect blonde eyebrow and I had to fight the urge to reach out and touch it, "What was that?" He wondered.

"Hmmm?"

He chuckled again, "What is better than you imagined?"

"Oh," I laughed, "You catching me when I fell out of a tree."

Yes, it was definitely possible for his smile to get larger, "I've been meaning to say," he murmured nonchalantly as he climbed up the steps and I realised exactly the weight of what I had just let escape my lips, "I'm exceptionally interested in these imaginations you seem to have collected about me over the years."

I looked away from his face in embarrassment, "Well it's a good thing we have forever, I might need a while to work up to that," I muttered.

He kissed my cheek, "Would that be embarrassing?"

I nodded, and I caught him purse his lips out the corner of my eye, but then he nodded, "I'll not pretend to understand why, but take as long as you like, my darling. I'll be right by your side when you're ready."

I turned back to face him, as he managed to fit the both of us through the narrow kitchen door. "I love you," I murmured, and he beamed in reply.

"As I love you," he stopped walking in the kitchen, and let me down on my feet, before pulling me into his embrace and capturing my lips with his.

When we pulled away, Carlisle tucked the wet strands of hair behind my ear, and then gently stroked my face, "You're happier today," he murmured.

I nodded definitively, "That's why I was outside."

He cocked his head to the side, and gave me a lopsided smile, "Freedom?"

"Yes, but not from the house." I reached up and threaded my fingers into his hair; he closed his eyes and sighed.

"Not from the house?" He whispered.

I shook my head, "From the past."

His eyes opened, and he looked at me curiously, before his golden orbs melted into pools of liquid gold, and his lips pulled up into a tender smile, "If I could, I would take away every single thing that causes you pain, but I know I can't. I can, however, be here when you need me to be, and I will be. I promise. Anything."

I nodded, and fought the sobs of gratitude that threatened to wrack my body.

"Truly, if you ever need me when I'm at work, call the hospital and I'll be home as fast as I can be."

I nodded again, and wrapped my arms around his torso. He pulled me closer and kissed my head, "I'm so proud of you, with everything you do, Esme. _So proud._"

I sighed into his chest, "I just got fed up of feeling so helpless. I don't want to be a victim of my own past, I _want_ to leave it all behind me. I mean, when you're not around, I'm _all right_, but I want to be more than _just_ all right when I don't have you. I don't want to be weak."

He pulled away slightly to look me in the eye, "The boldest of heroes always begin their journey of recovery with three words: _I'm all right_. Darling, true strength can only be found in those who have known weakness." His eyes were centuries old as he reached up to stroke my hair, "_I_ think you're brave, you are a fearless warrior in the most gallant and gentle of ways and I love you. You're _my_ fearless warrior."

His words were spoken with such honesty, they gave me the confidence to suddenly say, "Carlisle, there's something wrong with the house."

Confusion overtook his entire face, as he gazed down at me, "Pardon me?"

I pursed my lips to fight the smile that pulled at the corner of my lips, "It's nothing serious. It's just hiding something from me."

He let out a laugh, "Is that your creative way of saying that you've lost something?"

"More like, I can't find something."

He stared at me lovingly, "Oh my darling, I'm not as good as Sherlock Holmes."

I giggled, and grabbed his hand, "Perhaps my sudden subject change gave you whiplash."

He laughed, "Indeed."

"I'll show you?" I wondered.

He nodded and I pulled him into the hallway, "Darling, you're sopping from head to toe," he chuckled.

I flicked him a smile over my shoulder, "This is important."

He merely laughed in reply, and I pulled him up the staircase, "Where is Edward?" I wondered.

"Oh," Carlisle murmured indifferently, "He wanted to check something on the car."

"I hope you lie better than that when you call in sick to the hospital," I murmured, and he laughed freely.

I tugged at his hand as I dashed toward my room, but let it go when I reached the doorway. He could come in, or he could stay out, that was his choice. He chose to stay at the doorway; his eyes fell upon my dresser. "I really do need to get you another one of those."

I shook my head and grabbed my sketchbook from the bed, "It's all right. I manage to fit everything in."

He shot me an impish grin, "I'm not going to stop buying you things, my love. Besides, Edward needs a new place to store his ever-growing record collection; perhaps you could re-imagine the dresser into a shelf?"

I felt my eyes open wider in wonder, "Truly?" I murmured.

He nodded, grinning at my excited expression. I felt like jumping as I walked back over to him with the book in my hands, flicking to the page with my floor plans on it.

"Thank you," I managed to avoid sounding like an overexcited child on Christmas day. He stepped into the room and I handed him the book, but didn't say a thing, letting him draw his own conclusions.

He smiled down at it for a moment, before his brow furrowed, and he reached up a finger to trace the lines, murmuring the measurements under his breath.

Feeling self conscious, I murmured, "I'm not fully certain of the measurements, they're just rough ones."

"Inches," he whispered, "The house is hiding inches."

I laughed, and nodded, "Methinks. We're missing a decent foot."

He didn't look up from the paper, nor did he smile as he replied, "Methinks we have four decent feet, but each to their own, I daresay."

I folded my arms over my chest and tried to look annoyed at his joke, but I couldn't manage to wipe the smile off of my face, so the effect was ruined and he merely chuckled at me.

"Eight point two, sixteen point five, nine point eight, that's thirty four and a half, then nineteen point seven and sixteen point five, that's a little over thirty six. Ahh, I see. We're missing about a foot and a half." He mused, and looked around the room.

"If my calculations are correct," I murmured.

He shot me a grin, "Considering that you got the three inch thickness of the wall correct, I think its safe to say all the rest are correct. You _are_ remarkable, after all."

I laughed, "Says you."

He nodded definitively, "And I only ever tell the truth. Do you have any suspicions as to where our missing inches are hiding?"

I gave a non-committal shrug, "I have a few doubtful wishes."

He grinned, and gave me a hopeful look, "Will you confide them in me?"

I sighed and nodded, moving closer to cuddle to his side, he held me tight and kissed my head, "I noticed when we were doing the attic, that the chimney has twin flu pipes, so I started wondering if that meant that there was another fireplace, so I looked in the houses book you brought me from Duluth," I couldn't help but grin whenever I thought of my favourite book and, in turn, that made Carlisle grin as well, "And there was a house in there that had twin flu pipes and two fireplaces. So I had a look at your fireplace downstairs he other day and it extends a foot and a half out from the wall…" I trailed off hopefully, gazing up at his perfect face.

He considered this for a moment, and then nodded, "That does seem to be the most logical conclusion… Then we perhaps might find that the starkly empty wall has something hidden behind it?" Carlisle gazed at the wall we were facing, the one that desperately needed a painting to hang off of it, which backed onto the bathroom. "Shall we tap it to see?" He wondered.

I grinned, "I think that'd be a good idea."

He gave my shoulders a squeeze and my head another kiss before he pulled me by the hand over to the wall. "We think it should be fairly centred?"

I smiled at his use of the plural, "We do."

Gingerly he tapped in the center of the wall, and then to the left, we listened intently for the slightest difference in sound, and mercifully – which sent my body into full excitement mode – the change in sound was quite obvious. There was definitely something hidden behind there.

"Well that sounds promising," Carlisle teased, "I'm not going to claim I know much about building, but I think if there is a fireplace hidden behind here, then the wall wont be structural, so we can take it down. That is if you don't mind turning your bedroom into a construction site." He murmured, and then turned to look around the room, "I might just knock on some of the others to see what they sound like, I might get a better idea of what's necessary and what's not. It's not a major disaster if the house falls down, but it might be a little inconvenient."

I grinned at his words, although I knew they were mostly for himself, and I watched as he moved around the room tapping on the walls.

"Definitely a non-essential stud wall," he grinned my way once he was done, "So what do you say? Shall we take the wall out?"

I nodded enthusiastically, and he chuckled, "Shall we ask Edward if he would like to join in our demolition efforts? I seem to recall he has shown a particular liking for punching holes in this poor house."

I laughed, and a flash of bronze appeared in the doorway, "Did I hear someone thinking about the many ways we can destroy the walls?"

Carlisle gave him a lopsided grin, "Only one wall."

Edward sighed in mock disappointment, "I suppose that's all right. May I put my fist through it?"

Carlisle chuckled at the absurdity of his question coupled with his polite tone, "Not just yet, let us cover the furnishings first. I don't want to get plaster dust _everywhere_."

Carlisle moved toward the doorway, "Only some places?" Edward wondered, looking at his father with his usual reverence.

"Yes," Carlisle stopped in front of Edward and grinned mischievously, "Like your face and hair," he clapped Edward on the shoulder, and the boy rolled his eyes, I wondered what silent exchange I missed.

Carlisle turned to me, and smiled, "I'll get the tools from the garage."

I nodded, "I'll move the furniture away from the wall."

We shared a conspiratorial smile, and I was nearly overcome with the urge to run toward him, wrap my arms around his neck and shower him in kisses.

"I'll help Esme," Edward stated loudly, Carlisle blinked twice, and nodded before leaving a little dumbstruck. Perhaps he was overcome with the urge to kiss me too. I giggled, and Edward rolled his eyes. Together, we shifted the furniture against the far wall and then covered it with the old sheets Carlisle brought back up from the garage, draped over his head.

"Alright," Edward murmured, rubbing his hands together with his eye fixated on the wall, "How do we begin?"

"Well, I think we should tap some more to discover the dimensions of the fireplace and then perhaps, drill some holes to saw around the structure." Carlisle replied thoughtfully, "What do you think, love?"

I shrugged, "That sounds good to me."

"Or," Edward interjected, "We could make a precise incision into the wall quite far away from the suspected sight of the fireplace to allow us a visual on the fireplace, in order to increase the precision of the position for the holes to be drilled, ensuring that we do not mark the structure."

I bit the inside of my lip, "That sounds fair."

Carlisle nodded, "I agree. Would you like to do the honours, Edward?" He held up the drill, and Edward grinned.

"I would love to," he murmured, ignoring the extended drill and marching over to the far left hand side of the wall. I did not miss the mischievous glint in his eye, and I should have known to expect what he did next, but it still surprised me. Carefully Edward raised his hand to tap on the wall, but the force he exerted on it caused the plaster to cave in on itself and open up into a gaping hole.

"Edward!" Carlisle exclaimed in surprise.

The boy turned around grinning, "Oh, come now Carlisle, you should have seen that coming. Using tools really isn't how I do things."

Carlisle's frame shook with laughter as he gazed fondly upon the boy; I was still frozen in surprise. Edward poked his head through the hole and looked to the right, "Ah, yes, it's definitely a fireplace. I can see it."

His words caused every drop of shock to drain from my body, only to be replaced with bubbling excitement. I dashed over to his side, and beamed at him.

"Would you like to have a look, Esme?" He teased.

"Yes, please!" I nodded, feeling as though I could jump on the spot, or do a jig. Carlisle's laughter increased in volume from behind as I stood on my tiptoes and peered through the wall. There was a vertical plank of wood that stood between the fireplace and me, blocking my view somewhat, but I could definitely see the dark figure of a hearth not too far away.

"I see it!" I beamed, "Carlisle?" I turned around expecting to find him still standing on the opposite side of the room, so I was surprised to find him standing next to me. His unexpected close proximity lit my flesh with flames I didn't understand. I fought the urge to reach out to him. He smiled as I stepped back, making room for him to peek through the wall, and it was impossible for me not to smile back at his dishevelled blonde hair and bright golden eyes.

He peered through the gap, "Hmmm," his deep voice rumbled through the walls, sending thrills down my spine, "I think we may need to make another precise and careful incision on the other side of this beam here," he pulled his head out of the hole to look at Edward, who'd moved a little further down the wall, grinning at his father.

"About here, would you say?" He wondered, and Carlisle chuckled before he nodded.

Edward gave another hard knock to the wall, and the plaster caved in once again.

He stuck his head through the new gap, "Much better view," he approved.

His hair was sprinkled with plaster dust when he pulled his head back out, and I couldn't fight the loving giggle that escaped my mouth, "You look very handsome, darling," I murmured.

He flicked me a crooked grin, "Why thank you," his eyes darted to Carlisle for a brief moment before he added, "Fair maiden."

Carlisle favoured him with a rare eye roll, "Here we go with the age jokes," he chuckled.

"Oh, stop it, you two!" I grinned, "Let's get to work."

With more banter, causing laughter to fill the room, Carlisle, Edward and I, began to take down the wall, which hid the fireplace. I kept my head inside the hole as Carlisle drilled much smaller holes, per my description, at every corner of the hearth. Edward used his newly acquired sawing skills to cut straight lines between dots.

"I think the wallpaper in this room must have once been yellow," I murmured, gazing at the hidden wall.

"Is that so?" Carlisle murmured, his eyes lighting up impishly, "That would mean your room is soon to be two toned."

"Hmmm, it would seem so." I pulled my head out of the hole to look at him, but he didn't look up from his spot on the ground where he was drilling the fourth hole.

"That won't look very good, will it?" He wondered.

"It will look artistic?" The unsure edge to my voice turned my statement into a question, to which Carlisle chuckled.

"I think it seems as though you'll just have to choose some new wallpaper for the room, or paint," he murmured nonchalantly, as though he was unaware that his words sent my mind into a flurry, "But then the bedspread and curtains wont match…" He contemplated this for a moment, "Oh well, I suppose you'll have to get new bedding and curtains." He lifted his head so his eyes met mine, and shrugged. His face was apathetic, but his eyes danced with glee, "May as well just redesign the whole room. It'll probably be easier that way."

"You're not serious?" I refused to allow my heart to expand with any more excitement until I knew for certain that he was completely serious about his offer.

He shrugged again, "I don't see why not?"

His indifferent manner was ruined by the giant smile that broke out across his face, and Edward chuckled.

"Any more, Esme, and your eyes will pop out." Edward murmured.

"Truthfully?" I whispered in wonder to Carlisle.

He nodded, "Truthfully."

"The whole room?"

His beaming smile morphed into a small smirk, "The whole room."

"Redesign?" My voice was barely anything more than just air escaping my mouth.

"Redesign," his smirk was growing more pronounced.

I pointed to myself, "By me?"

"By you." I swear, his eyes had been made of glitter.

"But why?" I wondered, dumbstruck.

He shrugged, "Why ever not?"

"I might ruin it," I warned.

"I trust you, and it's your room," his fake indifference returned.

I shook my head, "It's too much."

"Nothing is too much for you."

I could have kissed him. I would have kissed him if it wouldn't have disturbed Edward. If we had been alone, I would have tackled him. I would have done much more than just kissed him in the chaste manner that he allowed. Perhaps it was good that Edward was with us, I'm not sure how ladylike I would have managed to act if we'd have been alone. The most thrilling thing was, however, that I was sure – from the look in his eyes – he would have happily complied.

Edward cleared his throat awkwardly, "Well," his voice was louder than normal, "This is almost done… Er, just have to cut one more line… It's a shame about the weather today, isn't it?"

"Hmmm?" Carlisle's eyes never left mine, and I felt my face break out into an ear-splitting smile, "Oh, I don't mind the rain."

I giggled, and mentally apologised to Edward for my train of thought, before I gave Carlisle a wink, and shoved my head back into the wall. I ignored the unmistakeable sound of Edward playfully shoving his father, "Snap out of it," he whispered, to which Carlisle chuckled.

The saw resumed its cutting motion as Edward made the final incision. "All right!" He called triumphantly, "Shall we remove this piece of plaster and reveal the fireplace?"

I pulled away from the wall, and met Carlisle's adoring eyes, "You have plaster dust in your hair now too, my love." He wandered over and dusted the top of my head, before gently placing a kiss on it. We pulled away and nodded to Edward, who grabbed the edge of the square cut out as I wrapped my arms around Carlisle's waist.

"What colour are we hoping for?" Edward grinned before he pulled the wall away.

"Anything but yellow," I replied, and the boys laughed. I was very pleased to find, when Edward removed the cut out, that the fireplace was made of a beautiful white stone.

"Well, that's nicer than the study's hearth," he murmured, and I grinned, wandering over to it.

I gingerly extended a hand, to gently feel the stone beneath my fingertips, it was smooth and warm, akin to that of my own skin, "It's beautiful," I whispered.

I caught the boys exchange a grin out the corner of my eye, "You two can take down the rest of the wall, if you'd like? And I'll clean this up?"

They nodded eagerly and began to rip down the wall with their hands as I found a damp cloth and wiped away the grime from the beautiful white surface.

The boys laughed and teased each other as they exposed the old wall of the bedroom, and I marvelled at our discovery. This would be perfect… Especially if Carlisle decided to move into this room after the wedding, we could spend our nights cuddled up by the fire, with him reading me stories out of our favourite books.

"Oh, that reminds me, Esme." Edward murmured as I polished a particularly grimy spot on the shelf, "With all this excitement, we didn't even get to give you the magazines we picked up in Ashland town today," Edward chuckled to himself.

"So that's what you ran off for? Magazines?" I teased, and Edward gave me a lopsided grin.

"I love you, mother, but perhaps not _that _much," he winked, "Carlisle wanted me to have a peek in the minds of a few of the pastors around town. We're thinking we might have to visit a different town for the wedding."

"Of course," I murmured, "Some people might recognise me."

Carlisle nodded, I noted that his expression had fallen slightly, "It won't be a big affair, I do apologise about that, but other than the guest list, you can have whatever you like. We got a pile of the magazines, you can pick whatever you like from them." His smile was almost apologetic.

I sighed in relief, "I wouldn't want a big affair, " I assured him, "I'm truly not a fan of show."

He beamed, "That's what I thought."

"Lola Brinkley had other ideas," Edward laughed, "'_Oh, it will be the wedding of the decade!'_ she told us, and then Carlisle spoiled it all, _'Oh no, it will only be small. Just a family affair.'_ I think she almost cried."

I raised an eyebrow, "She wanted an invite?"

He nodded, "She thinks you two are perfect for each other."

Carlisle grinned, and I giggled, I thought so too.

"We thought we could go into Washburn next week," Edward continued, as though Carlisle and I weren't getting lost in the depths of each other's eyes, "The Fortendue ladies have a store there, which is open on a Saturday, and Monday. They're good seamstresses."

"Are they the ladies who chose my first clothes?" I wondered, abruptly breaking my eye contact with Carlisle before the urge to tackle him could return in full force. Edward nodded.

They were the ladies who didn't give me a corset, _perfect_, they wouldn't expect me to wear one. I grinned, "That sounds lovely."

Next week didn't give me a lot of time to consider what kind of dress I would like, then a thought occurred to me, "Uh, what date are we planning… for the wedding?" I wondered, nerves bundling in my stomach.

"The Fortendue ladies may take a while to prepare the dress, depending on what you choose," Carlisle flicked me a grin, "But other than that, we don't really have any time constraints. You can choose a date."

"I've never planned a wedding before," I murmured.

Edward chuckled, "Nor have we."

"Just as long as you're there," Carlisle grinned, "It will be perfect."

Had I been human I would have flushed so red, the colour itself would have paled in comparison. "Don't you worry about that," I laughed, "Nothing will be able to keep me away."

I grinned to myself as I realised the truth of my words, and my worries from earlier in the day seemed so daft and silly. Had I truly ever doubted that I should make an effort for Carlisle just because my life hadn't turned out quite as I wished it would have? No, because this was not about me. It was about the both of us, and I planned to make Carlisle the happiest man possible. Mind you, judging from the expression on his face as he pulled away more plasterboard, I truly wouldn't have to try very hard at all.

I turned back to the stone beneath my fingertips, wondering if the chimney would be in working order. I assumed that since Carlisle's fireplace was working in the study, mine would also.

"Do you think this will work?" I wondered aloud.

"We might have to check to see if the flue pipe is blocked before we light a fire, but I don't see why it wouldn't work." Carlisle mused thoughtfully, before he made his way to my side and stuck his head in the pit. As he peered up the flume pipe I couldn't help but giggle at the black ash on his high cheekbone. How gloriously beautiful was it possible for one person to be? I could tell from the look on his face that he knew exactly how endearing I found the dark little smudge on his bone-white skin.

"It looks fairly clean," he murmured, "I'd say it hasn't been used in years. We should definitely try it before you redecorate though, I wouldn't want to ruin your work."

He straightened up and grinned down at me.

"You were truly serious about that?" I asked doubtfully.

He lifted his hand to stroke my cheek, "You can't honestly tell me that having two different wall papers in one room would look good."

I looked to the newly exposed yellow walls with purple flowers, "Perhaps not these two particular wall papers," I smirked.

He chuckled, "Exactly, so it needs a little revamping. Edward won't want to do it, _I _do not have much of a designer's eye, and you are not only an impeccable artist, but I _know_ you enjoy turning a room into a masterpiece. I've seen the way it lights up your eyes, my love. I want you to be _that_ happy every single moment of forever. Your happiness is my very most favourite thing."

I flung my body into his, and wrapped my arms tightly around his waist. Perhaps I held on a little too tight with my newborn strength, but he didn't protest. "Thank you, Carlisle," I whispered, "I love you so much."

He chuckled, and rubbed my back, "As I love you, my darling."

I pulled back, and gazed up into his curious golden orbs, "Do I really need a dress? I have plenty of nice ones here. I could just wear one of them and we could find a church in Washburn when we visit next week…"

He chuckled, "Although I have no protests to that, you might… later on."

I sighed, he was probably right, I _did _want to marry him properly, white dress, orange blossoms and everything.

"You have forever," Edward reminded us, dropping the last of the plaster on the pile they'd created, "What's the rush?"

I gave him my best wise look, "What is the point in having forever, if you spend the whole thing waiting for it to start?"

He nodded, "Touché."

I sighed, "All right, I'll get a proper white dress. You can wear a nice suit, and I'll try my very best to keep the pastor alive. Does that sound perfect?"

Carlisle nuzzled my nose affectionately, "Very."

I saw Edward grin to himself and look away, leaving us to our affectionate embrace. Suddenly I felt a little embarrassed that he'd witnessed us in such close proximity, but he didn't seemed to mind, in fact, it seemed to make him happy. I couldn't help the picture that flittered into my mind of him, with his arms wrapped around an unknown woman, looking at her the way that Carlisle looked at me, and my heart throbbed with love. I almost choked on the satisfaction that he could feel love like this someday. I was unbelievably lucky, to be able to wake up in this life and have my mate staring me in the eyes. Carlisle had to wait nearly three hundred years to find me. I fervently hoped to a God that I didn't believe in, that Edward wouldn't have to wait a fraction of that time to find the love of his life. He _deserved_ it so much. I saw his cheek pull up in a grin at my thoughts, as Carlisle placed another chaste kiss on my hairline, before he stepped back.

"We have a mess to clean up," he grinned at the plaster pile, and Edward laughed.

"That was fun, are there any other walls that need pulling down?" He wondered.

Carlisle eyed me curiously, "With this one around, I think there will be," his eyes sparkled adoringly, and I looked to my feet feeling oddly self-conscious.

Edward laughed, "I'll go and get something to put all of this in," he murmured before he ducked out of the room.

Carlisle grabbed my hand, "You're embarrassed?"

I bit my lip, "I like this. I like plaster dust and knocking walls down… But it's not very ladylike."

He pursed his lips into a hard line, which didn't match his soft eyes; I figured he was trying to hide his smile. He moved back, closer to me, closer than he had even been before when I'd embraced him. He lifted my chin up, and I realised completely just how much larger he was than me.

"Do you remember," he murmured in a low, deep voice that did strange things to my tummy, "When we were in the forest, what seems like a lifetime ago, and you were giving me faith in my faith, the day you caught your very first grizzly bear?"

I nodded; my senses were filling with everything that was Carlisle. I felt intoxicated.

"And I told you," his voice was even lower, I nearly groaned, "That perhaps I prefer unladylike ladies?"

I meant to laugh, but I was so breathless that air was the only thing to escape my lips.

He grinned, his eyes sparkling, "Well it just so happens, that I find your love of plaster dust _extremely _attractive."

Oh, I was hot all over. That was _not _how a gentleman was to address a lady! But how wondrous it was! His lips were edging ever so close to mine, I momentarily thought to give him a warning look, if he kissed me now I would certainly attack him, but I couldn't quite manage it. I wanted to kiss him so badly. I _needed _it.

His pressed against mine firmly, as his arms wrapped around my body and pulled me closer to his. My own hands found their way up to his hair and I threaded them through his long blonde locks, tugging gently as his jaw relaxed. He sighed into the kiss and I heard him stop a quiet moan that had begun to arise in his throat, just as I was so desperately fighting the one that was trying to arise in my own throat. His tongue gently traced my lower lip, I sighed and let my own jaw relax, welcoming him in. I was struck once again by the sensation that flooded my tastebuds, his venom tasted of the cinnamon-pear-and-fresh-air that he smelt of. Nothing had ever smelt nor tasted quite as good as he did… perhaps bar one exception that I refused to think about.

I tangled my fingers deeper into his hair, and he pulled me in closer, our bodies were pressed flush together, but they weren't close enough. He held me tight as though he never ever wanted to let me go, and I tried as best as I could to pour every single drop of love that I had felt for him all day into our passionate embrace. Somehow I managed to snake closer to him, and my fingers tugged on his hair desperately. I didn't know what I needed, but my body was coursing with a desire that easily crossed the line to _need_. Finally he allowed the moan to arise in his throat, but seconds later his lips were off mine. My eyelids fluttered open to gaze at him questionably, but my curiosity was trumped by a different - burning - feeling when my eyes met his. They were dark, and half crazed.

"Carlisle?" I murmured, and it seemed to calm him somewhat. He let out a deep breath, and stepped back slightly, still keeping me in his embrace.

After a few steady breaths, his eyes turned wary, and he grinned at me ruefully, "Sorry love, I got a little carried away there."

I gave him a lopsided grin, "Although I can't say I don't like it when you do, perhaps it's good you have such remarkable self-control, I daresay things might get rather scandalous if you left me in charge of control for a while."

He laughed exuberantly, and buried his face in my hair, "You've no idea how hard it is to listen to my better judgement when you're in my arms."

I smiled into his shirt, "Oh, I think I have a rough idea."

The kitchen door swung open as Edward entered downstairs, humming to himself loudly. Most likely attempting to drown out our thoughts. _Poor boy._

Carlisle and I stepped back, putting a more respectable distance between our two bodies as our son climbed the stairs. He flicked us a small smile when he appeared in the doorway, acting as though nothing had happened. Fair enough.

He held up his hand filled with thin books, "You're magazines, ma'am, it seems as though you'll be getting some design ones tomorrow," he grinned, "And I found this big bag," he held up a thick canvas-type bag in his other hand, "Will that be good?"

Carlisle nodded, and reached for the plaster that lay on the floor, and Edward placed the pile of magazines on top of the sheet that covered the bed, as though the idea of planning a wedding was not as enticing as redecorating a room. Perhaps he didn't quite gather how desperate I was to be Mrs. Cullen. In fact, I wished I had been Carlisle's wife months, and months ago. Although he'd never let me, the thought of a wedding the next week was incredibly enticing… Yet some tiny little voice in the back of my head questioned whether either of us was really ready yet. I supposed only time would tell, but I'd not wait for forever to end before I took my chance, I knew very well that sometimes the true risk was not taking the risk at all.

* * *

_A.N. Hello again, so here marks the beginning of the journey to the wedding! This is a monumental thing for both Carlisle and Esme, and I thought the best way to mark it would to cement the idea in Esme's head that she __**is worth it.**__ She's a smart woman, and I think it would be easier for someone to overcome their fears if they truly believe in what the person they love is telling them, and Carlisle has been telling Esme this for a long time. What better way to have her cement this in her head, than to give her a small victory? So that was my reasoning behind the first portion of the chapter. Esme would have undoubtedly struggled with this a lot, leading up to the wedding, so I think we'll see it a little bit more. I believe she and Carlisle have a very open relationship, so although it would be embarrassing (and possibly she might think it improper) to discuss, I think they'd discuss it anyway. Let us see where it goes!  
The second part of the chapter happened for one reason only, I __**wanted**__ a fireplace in the bedroom but that was after I first described it, and I knew someone would notice if suddenly the bedroom had a fireplace, so it opened up a nice opportunity for Esme to renovate. Speaking of homes, has anyone ever considered that perhaps Esme is a metaphor for home? That was just a random thing that occurred to me.  
__And the last part just didn't want to end! This chapter was so long, and I feel like it's taken me ages to write. But in good news, I have a week of university to study for my exams, so I'll write a little more and then have time after exams to write even more! Yay!_

_Sorry for the long author's note, I like to just jot down what I was thinking while writing. Skip them if they bore you! ;)  
Thanks again for the wonderful reviews, the constant following, and my lovely favouriters. I adore you all. Much love._

_Oh, P.S. When it comes to the honeymoon, I'm not going to write a lemon (I seriously think I'd ruin it) and I figured that everyone reading this would have read and liked Twilight (obviously) so I'd try and keep it to the same rating as the books, but I need your opinions, do you think Twilight would be rated T or M? Not sure if I should keep the T rating, or switch it for an M? (Even without the lemons) Tell me what you think :)_


	39. Family

_Chapter Thirty-Nine: Family _

_Ashland, Wisconsin, November 1921_

_Carlisle_

I was not tired. I could not get tired. I was… I was in a state of …

Extreme thirst, perhaps? I couldn't tell exactly what I was right then, as I finally slid into the car that afternoon. It was normal for Edward or I to hunt every fortnight, and for Esme to hunt every week. We took turns each week to take her out, but sometimes we planned a big family hunting trip, and I went without hunting for three weeks, so I could enjoy the big hunt when it came around. I regretted it insanely in that very moment.

We were scheduled to leave for the Canadian wilderness six hours ago. However, half an hour before my twelve-hour shift ended at ten o'clock, seven patients were brought in with severe burns to their bodies, some with missing limbs, others with extreme head injuries. What made it worse was that six of the patients were children from the local school; the seventh was their teacher. It was a series of little events that led to the loss of young lives. The local mechanic's son had stolen a small carton of gasoline for show and tell, but had forgotten to tightly screw the lid on, so it happened to dribble all throughout the classroom he'd presented it in, as well as the area outside it. One of the older girls and her group of friends had acquired their mother's cigarettes, and were hidden outside the classroom smoking them. They carelessly threw away the cigarette butts once they were finished with them, and one flew through the open window and into the classroom, it was still alight. The classroom lit up like the sun. Few students close to the door escaped. The teacher gave her life in attempt to save all of her students, but her attempts were mostly futile. We could only save two of the children who had the least severe injuries. Still, one would live with brain damage for the remainder of his life, and the other needed her right arm amputated.

Death was bad. Death of children was even worse. But death of children whom I was certain Esme knew in her human life, was one of the worst things that I could imagine… and _I_ couldn't save them. All of that coupled with the wildfire ripping my throat, and the emotional fragility that thirst left me with; today had been an utterly terrible day. I truly did not feel up to running with my family into the Canadian wilderness, laughing, carefree and in love. All I wanted to do was to go back into that hospital and try again. But they were dead. That was the one main thing that I could not fix. I sent a prayer to the Lord for the children's families and friends, knowing the children themselves would be fine in Heaven with Him.

I rubbed my head in my hands, before turning the key in the ignition and steering out of the car park. The entire drive home had my head in a flurry, wondering what to tell my darling Esme, for the truth would no doubt upset her, and bring back upsetting memories of losing her own son, but I could not very well lie to her when she undoubtedly asked. Perhaps I was underestimating her, as I had done before, and she may have been strong enough to handle the news. I decided to run the idea passed Edward before I mentioned anything to her. With my resolution, my mind drifted back to the five lives we lost that morning. The teacher was a middle aged woman, who'd I seen around town very rarely, but whenever I did, she had always smiled brightly, no doubt drawn in my vampiric allure, but her smile had been lovely. The children were all very similar, cherubic, and innocent. There were three young boys, and one young girl. The girl had blonde ringlets, and large brown eyes. I hated to admit it, for all of the deaths were tragic, but something about hers struck me more than the others, and I couldn't pinpoint quite why that was.

I sighed as I turned onto the driveway, apprehensive of what would happen when Esme asked of my day. I briefly informed Edward of everything that had happened, and shared my worries for the woman we both adored.

I sped around the final corner in the narrow driveway, and the trees gave way to the wooden house. Esme, with her brown hair piled on the top of her head, and wearing a knitted pink sweater over one of her favourite silk skirts, sat on the porch steps, waiting for me. Her eyes stared at the car with worry. I instantly fretted that Edward had told her of what happened already, but before the bronze-haired boy could appear in the doorway and shake his head, I dispelled the thoughts. She was worried because I had been six hours late; I'd never been that late before.

I pulled the car to a stop in front of the house, not bothering to drive it around to the garage, and I hopped out, needing to feel her in my arms. She was before me in a second, her eyes met my eyes, and without a word she pulled me in to a tight hug.

I buried my face into her soft brown hair and inhaled her scent.

I felt her sigh, "I love you," she whispered, "I love you so much."

I nearly sobbed in her arms by the car, right then, but instead, I held her closer and said, "I love you too, I'm sorry for being so late."

She shook her head, "Edward said you would have just got caught up in surgery," she pulled back a little bit, "Was it bad?"

As I stared down into her golden orbs, I knew I could not deny her the truth, so I nodded.

Sadness pooled in her loving irises before she pulled me once more, back into her arms. I looked to Edward, who was still in the doorway, he was gazing out into the forest with distant eyes; I coveted his gift in that moment, which made the corner of his lips twitch.

_Will she handle it well?_ I wondered.

He pursed his lips. I took that, as he was unsure. So I returned to hoping that she wouldn't ask.

She pulled back, and peered at me with worried eyes, "Are you all right?"

I sighed, "I'm just thirsty, love."

"Shall we go for a hunt, then? We can postpone our Canada trip until next week, or next fortnight, if you'd like? I don't mind, and I don't think Edward…" She trailed off to look at the bronze-haired boy in the doorway who nodded.

"I'm also able to reschedule, although it might be a tight fit with my exceptionally full timetable, of college two days a week," he replied wryly, flicking me a small smile. I managed one in return.

Esme turned back to me, "It's up to you."

I nodded, "Perhaps it will be best."

I stayed in my work clothes as we ran into the forest together, as a family. My mind would not waver from the small children that today the Lord took into Heaven, but I also thought of those who indirectly caused the loss of life, and then I thought of the families, who left their children safe and happy at school, never knowing they'd not be picking them up at the end of the day. I was tortured by the picture I had cooked up of Esme, rushing into the hospital with a baby in her arms, and walking out, sometime later, without.

Her eyes flickered to me continuously throughout our hunt, and I could almost feel her worry. I smiled at her every chance that I could, she'd always smile back, but I knew I could not fool her. I also knew she would not pester me. If I wanted to share, I would, she knew that. However polite she may be in that respect, she, like me, was a curious being, and I knew she'd desperately want me to confide in her, as a part of my own self did too. It would break her heart though, and I could not do that. I cringed when I realised I was also hesitant to tell her because I didn't want her to be disappointed in me.

We only found deer on our hunt; much more disappointing than the wildlife we had hoped to find in Canada, but it quenched the thirst all the same. Edward gave me a look, which was overflowing with mirth. He believed carnivores were much more thirst quenching than herbivores, I stood by the idea that they were much more _taste_ quenching, but cured the thirst all the same. I was favoured with an eye roll.

The run back to our wooden home was a quiet one, I kept Esme's hand securely in mine, basking in the comfort that brought me. We arrived back to the house moments before sheets of rain fell from the heavens. Edward gave me a funny look when we entered the kitchen, I could tell he wanted to talk to me about something, without Esme listening in.

Apparently this did not go missed by her, for when my eyes fell upon her face, she smiled, "I'll go and run you a bath upstairs." She placed a chaste kiss upon my forehead in the most comforting of ways, and I struggled to let her go.

"Thank you," I murmured as she was walking away. No one had ever run me a bath before. I looked down at my clothes, had I been so distracted that I had hunted untidily? How embarrassing.

Edward smiled softly, "It's a relaxation thing," he murmured, "Baths help women relax."

Having never taken a bath purely for peace before it seemed a little strange, and Edward shrugged, it must have just been a habit only the fairer sex indulged in. I wondered if it would work. Her quiet, tuneless humming wafted down the stairs, shortly before the bath faucet squeaked and water poured out.

"She's not listening," Edward murmured in a very low voice.

_Purposefully? _I wondered.

He gave a lopsided grin and nodded. I sighed, _Do I tell her?_

He bit the inside of his lip in uncertainty, a gesture he'd picked up from my beloved. "She'd like you to, but it would upset her. It depends. You keeping it to yourself will upset her too. She only wants to know because she wants you to be happy. It pains her to see you unhappy, just as it pains you to see her that way."

_All those children,_ I gazed out the window, _all those young lives._

"I know," Edward murmured, with eyes downcast, "I know. Perhaps the bath will help."

I nodded; _At least it will give me time to decide. She is strong._

"She is the strongest woman I know," he whispered fervently, "Perhaps this is something that will help her?"

I nodded, _Thank you, for helping, and also for keeping her confidence despite my pestering._

He shrugged, "You have an open relationship, truly, I don't know much more than you share with each other. It's quite lovely, really."

I gave him a sad smile, _I only fear hurting her gentle heart._

"I know. I fear it also, but I think, with you by her side, she can work through anything."

"As can I," I murmured in reply, _Thank you, son._

Edward nodded, "Shall we still plan for Washburn on Monday?"

"Yes," I murmured, "It will be a nice outing for all of us. You can choose the Canadian hunting trip date, though."

He grinned, "Thank you," he let out a laugh.

I clapped him on the shoulder, thinking of all the children I couldn't save, "I'm glad you're indestructible, Edward."

"And I you, father," he murmured before gazing out the door longingly.

_To the piano?_ I wondered.

He grinned and nodded, so we both made our way out of the kitchen, and parted at the stairs. As he went into the living room, I climbed the twelve steps of the staircase.

I leaned against the doorway of the bathroom, watching as Esme crouched beside the bathtub, and lovingly swirled the water with her hand, as if to test the temperature. She gazed up at me when my scent wafted over, and smiled. She quickly turned off the tap, and stood up. "I got a fresh change of clothes from the laundry pile, and a fresh towel too." She smiled gesturing to the pile of fabric near the tub, on the wooden floor.

Slowly she made her way over to stand in front of me. She reached up and brushed away the hair that fell on my forehead, "Now, _relax._ All right?" she murmured with a doting smile.

I nodded, and stroked her cheek with the back of my fingers, "Thank you," I smiled, before bending down to steal a kiss, "I think I like being looked after."

She let out a warm laugh, "Well, it's a good thing then, that I happen to love looking after you."

"It's a win, win situation."

She gave me a small nod, and another sweet kiss, "You'd better get in before the water goes cold," she murmured with a small giggle, before she moved out of my embrace and floated down the hall to her bedroom. She was, no doubt, going to plan how she would decorate it. It lifted my heavy heart to see her happy.

I made my way into the bathroom, noticing that she'd picked out my favourite sweater and trousers; how she knew they were my favourite? I've no idea. She'd also placed the hair-wash that only she used, beside the bath, I popped open the lid before I slipped into the bath, so the room would smell like her. She knew I loved that smell. How strange it was to have someone to love you so truly, that she knew you back to front. We were more alike than I had first thought, for she managed to find things without asking questions, and only queried about the things that she could not see.

She played on my mind the entire time I soaked in the bathtub, understanding why she found it relaxing, and why she was always so annoyed when the water cooled too quickly. However, for the most part, I tried to clear my head, and think nothing as I soaked in the cooling water. I drew out with a sigh, when all the heat was gone, and dressed quickly.

I felt a great deal better, more peaceful, than I had when I arrived home earlier that evening, but some unrest remained. I knew I was going to tell her what happened, I just didn't know why. More peculiar than anything, however, was that I felt as though I _needed_ to tell her. I pursed my lips, _how strange_.

I threw my favourite sweater over my shoulder, after I had dressed in the plain white shirts, and I yanked the socks on to my feet once they were dry, but I let my hair remain wet. She was partial to my hair being damp but the reason was unclear to me.

I wandered down the hall once I was fully clothed, and came to lean against the doorway to her bedroom. She was sitting in the middle of the room on the floor, sketching something that I couldn't quite see. Now and then she'd look up, and her eyes would wander around the room. Her expression was tranquil, yet her eyes were alive with a quiet excitement, as though she had managed to defy every law of physics and trap an entire universe in her irises. They twinkled like stars, shone like planets, and I watched as ideas sped across them like asteroids, lighting a flaming path behind them. Her smile was nearing a smirk, the only proof I had that she was aware of my presence, yet she didn't meet my eyes until she was satisfied with the paper in front of her.

She shifted to the side as she turned, and gazed up at me with a reverence I would never understand, "How was your bath?" She wondered in a soft voice that was like silk touching skin, which had only ever known sandpaper.

I grinned, running and hand through my hair, "Better than I thought. Do you happen to know all the secrets of the universe that I've missed out on, or just that one?" I wondered.

She laughed, and her head lolled to the side, "That one, and a few others," she gave me her adorable cheeky smile, with two perfectly straight rows of brilliantly white teeth, and the tiny tip of her tongue trapped in between. I couldn't help but chuckle quietly at her.

"Well, I hope you'll let me in on them one day," I murmured.

She shrugged before she winked, "We'll do a trade."

"Good," I grinned, "How's the redesigning going?"

"Quite well," she nodded, "I've picked out a dresser that I like, and it's made of similar wood to the bed frame, but I can't find any covers I like, so far, so I'll keep looking. I'm thinking about painting the walls white, or just off white. Keep it neutral."

"That sounds lovely, although, I'm sure you'd manage to make anything lovely."

She smiled; lowering her eyes to the floor, and thanked me in her endearingly bashful manner.

"I'll just be downstairs, there are a few things I have to do in the study," I murmured, slowly pushing myself away from the doorframe. She nodded as I smiled and walked away, truly wanting to spend the rest of the afternoon, lulling around on her bedroom floor, watching as she redrew her dreams for the design.

That's when it dawned on me, the reason I liked to see Esme designing… she was putting her dreams on paper, and I was making them come true. I couldn't erase the smile that spread across my lips as I realised that.

I met Edward on the staircase, "There's a symphony scheduled to be on the radio soon, I don't want to miss it."

I nodded, _I'll take you to a real one soon, son._

He beamed, "I look forward to it." He clapped me on the shoulder as we passed each other, and I slowly found my way into the solitary study. Over the years, my personal libraries had often been my sanctuary, but it seemed exceptionally odd now, that I should favour a room lined with books, over an embrace filled with love.

The light that filtered in was low, the sun was setting, slowly in the evening night. The shadows of the bookshelves were somewhat reminiscent of those that had been under my eyes that morning.

I let my head fall into my hands once I'd settled, and the images of the broken and burned bodies of small children played like a motion picture on my eyelids. Frame by frame I relived the chaos, so caught up in my thoughts I forgot about time and hearing, it wasn't until a soft hand touched my arm, that I realised I was no longer alone.

I looked up to meet Esme's concerned golden orbs, "Carlisle," she whispered, reaching her other hand up to brush a few lost locks of my hair away from my face, "I wish you'd tell me what's happened."

I could not think of the words to say to begin my tale in a gentle way. How could so much young death and devastation ever be portrayed in a light that was not as dull or as dark as a day without the sun?

She didn't understand my silence, and took it as unwillingness to share, not desperation to relay the events of the day, "I understand that something must have happened at the hospital that will be upsetting for you to say, and upsetting for me to hear, and I know I'm not really one to talk, because I can be daft very often, and I rarely ever make sense, but I've found that sharing burdens makes it easier to breathe, and talking brings people closer." She took a deep breath, her bravery on full display, "So, although I'd love to hear what's on your mind right now, I can wait. I've never found myself to be a patient person, but if you need me to be, I will be. I'll help in any way that I can."

I placed my free hand on hers that rested on my cheek, and offered up a small smile, "My darling, never have I once found you to be at all daft, and rarely do you ever not make sense. You make perfect sense, in the most confusingly beautiful of ways, and I adore you for that. I realize how hard that must have been for you to say," she smiled a small smile and nodded in confirmation, I couldn't help but smile widely back, "And I don't think anyone could grasp just how lucky that makes me feel."

She raised an eyebrow in confusion, "Lucky?"

"You trust me," I murmured.

She nodded, "I do. I trust you completely."

I reached up to stroke her cheek, "And I love you for that. Thank you for speaking your mind, Esme. You are _right_. I fear the events of my day will be upsetting for you."

She swallowed hard, her eyes danced with both apprehension and determination, "Did you treat someone I know?"

"Some children from the school you taught at."

Her face relaxed with obvious relief as she exhaled, and a small smile crept onto her face before she frowned, "That's terrible."

"You're relieved?" I wondered, that was certainly not the reaction I had expected.

"Well, I only thought, perhaps… Charles may have found me."

Of course! Of course that was what she would naturally fear. "Oh, no, love," I murmured as I stood, and made my way around the desk to wrap her in my arms, "You're safe here. You'll always be safe here."

She nodded, "I know, and I'm indestructible, of course, but it's always going to be in the back of my mind… If only the very back."

I kissed her hair, "Naturally. But I _will _protect you. I will always keep you safe. You are my life."

She held me tighter, and buried her head into my chest. I indulged myself in the sweet exotic smell of the honey suckle, apricot, passion fruit, and orange blossoms that were concentrated in her hair. I could always pick out the softer smell of peach, and mandarin leaves, as well as the osmanthus flower and the woods, but they were much more subtle. She was a perfect concoction of all my favourite things.

"The children," she whispered, "Was it very bad?"

I pulled back slightly, so I could see her eyes, and then I nodded, "We lost four, and a teacher."

Her eyes widened in disbelief, I could see the sadness in them, but it wasn't as strong as it always was when she pictured her own son. She'd obviously not allowed herself to draw comparisons, yet.

"How?" She whispered.

"A fire. A young boy had presented gasoline at show and tell, and then some young girls stole a smoke around the back of the class. The butt was still lit when they let it go. It caught the oil."

She closed her eyes, "That is so terrible. So, so tragic. Oh, Carlisle, you poor thing."

Her words baffled me, I stared at her blankly for a moment, "Pardon me?"

Her eyes opened quickly and shot me a quizzical look, before she reached up to stroke my cheek once more, "It's terrible that you had to see them that way. That wouldn't have been easy. Still," she ran her fingers through my hair, "The poor things were lucky that they had you in their last moments. There's no other being on Earth quite as gentle and compassionate as you, your face would be a very calming thing to see before they closed their eyes, and your voice would be a very peaceful thing to hear as they faded away. They would have felt _safe_."

"But I couldn't save them," I murmured in confusion.

She gave me a small smile, "Not everybody can be saved, at least, not in a human sense. Surely, with all their innocence and purity, God will find them a place in Heaven, yes?" I nodded, once again marvelling at her faith in my faith, "I'm sure you did everything that you could do, and seeing children die would not be easy. As for the parents… having a child die isn't easy; it's the most painful thing anyone could ever go through. The pain will be unbearable, because no parent should ever have to lose their child. It will be in their mind every single minute of every single day. They'll be tortured with infinite 'what if's, and the smallest things will be triggers for the onslaught of memories and wishes.

"Then one day, it will get to midday when they realize that they've gone a whole twelve hours without their child crossing their mind, and immediately they'll be consumed with this terrible gut wrenching guilt, until they realize that they don't deserve a life filled with pain, and their child would not have wanted that. They'll beat themselves up about it, over and over again. It will seem like nothing will ever be okay again, but then… then it is. Some days will be worse than others, but they'll go to sleep and they'll wake up again. For sometime, that will be the only thing that gets them through.  
"Time and pain are like magnets, when time passes, pain invariably goes with it. No matter how long it takes to leave, it _always _goes.  
"I know I'm not really one to talk, because I gave up, but I know what it's like to keep going now. Carlisle, you did all you could, and as horrible as these things are, they happen. It's tragic, and I wish it were something that was impossible, but it's not. They will be comforted by the knowledge that you did every single thing you could to try and save their children.  
"They will not blame you, as I do not blame the doctor who couldn't save my son." She stared up at me with a pensive expression in her beautiful eyes. I rubbed her back comfortingly as she relayed a story I had secretly craved to hear, "I brought him in, you know. Twice a day after he was born, once in the morning, and once in the evening, aside from Tuesday night. He was born in the afternoon on Tuesday, and the doctor… I can't recall his name, he had curly grey hair and tired grey eyes,"

I pictured the old doctor, who was supposed to have gone down to the morgue to pronounce my love dead. "Dr. Dawson?" I wondered.

She smiled, "That was him. He checked Timothy over, after the midwife had, and told us that we could go home. I got home at about seven that night, and he was awfully quiet the whole time. He didn't cry, he didn't sleep, he didn't vomit, nothing. He just lay there looking exhausted, so I went back to the hospital, into the ER, but when I got there, he fell asleep. The doctor thought I was just another paranoid mother, he looked over him, but told me he was fine. I stayed up all night, just watching him sleep. It was about three in the morning when he began to wheeze, so I took him back into the hospital, but the doctor wasn't available, so one of the nurses checked him over. She said he was fine, and told me not to panic. She wasn't very nice about it, so I found out where the midwives were, and took him there when he hadn't improved that afternoon. He had slept all day with his wheezing and what not, but he hadn't once woken to feed. They got him awake so we could feed him, and he seemed to get a little better. I didn't sleep at all that night either it was about two in the morning when he started to really have trouble breathing, so I took him back to the hospital, and the midwife took one look at him before calling for the doctor. I tried not to think that meant that it was bad but…" she sighed, it broke my heart to picture her standing with a tiny, dying child at the hospital, all alone, "Dr. Dawson took him away, and he came back without him. He looked pained, and I was panicked, I thought he'd already died, but the doctor said that they'd put him somewhere warm, and there was nothing he could do. He had lung fever and they couldn't fix it. He said, 'I'm sorry, young lady, but your son is going to pass soon.' A mother never, ever wants to hear those words. He asked me if there was anything he could do, but I just wanted to be with my son, I didn't want him to die alone. So he took me into the room, and sat me down. Timothy was crying, which made it harder for him to breathe, so I picked him up and sang to him, until he calmed down," her voice had become quiet, almost a whisper as she relived some of the worst moments of her life, "He calmed down enough to sleep, so he drifted off in my arms, and I watched his little chest as it rose and fell, and listened to him as he wheezed, right up until the moment," her voice had grown so weak, she took a deep breath and whispered, "It stopped."

Esme did not cry, she breathed steadily and gazed out the window with a faraway expression on her face.

"If only I'd have been there," I whispered knowing had it been any day but a Tuesday that she had given birth, I would have, but she looked up to me with a small smile on her face before she shook her head vehemently.

"I have thought about that so many times. If I could go back in time and tell my sixteen-year-old self to find you and run away, would I? If I could make myself take Tim to the ER on Thursday, instead of the midwife's office, would I? The answer is always, _always,_" her voice was low and broken, "No." She shook her head again, and her eyes darted around the room, her eyebrows pulled together, and I knew she was crying tearless and sob-lessly, "You have no idea how that makes me feel," her chin trembled when she spoke those words so quietly, I almost could not hear, "How I feel like a wretched person, and an absolutely _terrible _mother, but what if this was all for the best? If I had brought him in, if you had treated him, he might still be alive, he might not be, but seeing you… I don't know what that would have done to me," she wept, "I don't know what that would have done to me. Then you would have left because it was too dangerous, and took Edward with you, as well as my sanity perhaps," she let out a single shaky laugh before she reverted back to her sombre mood, "And maybe Tim would have grown up, maybe he would have been happy, but he would have always grown up knowing him mother was scared of something, and what if one day… What if one day Charles had found us? What if he had hurt Tim? Dying when he was just a baby, and he didn't know what was going on, is a much better way to die than at the hands of his own father. And the there's me. I feel… so guilty some days, for being happy, because I shouldn't wish him dead, and I don't wish him dead, but if he were still alive, I wouldn't know what true happiness is like. Happiness with you and Edward." She clutched onto my sides as I rubbed her shoulders. She took a deep breath, "I miss him everyday. I'm greedy with my wishes. I'm hopeless with my dreams. I'm tormented by what it could have been like to have him here with us, but what makes it worse," her face scrunched up, and her words came out garbled as the sobs finally shook her body, "Is that I would still be so scared, like I always was so scared, that he might turn out to be just like Charles." Her body shook beneath my hands; her breath was merely uneven gasps. "I couldn't live with myself if that happened. I wanted him to turn out like _you._"

I'd never truly realised the exact extent as to how strongly I'd affected her as a human. It was almost as if I was in every single thought she ever had, as though I had never left her mind for a second. Perhaps the whole time, her mind was programmed to know fate, when I was too lonely to believe another soul could possibly be the perfect match for mine.

I finally pulled her into my chest and held her tightly, letting her sink into my skin as she cried. There were few better feelings than that of having her safe in my embrace.

"You," I murmured into her hair, "Are the very best mother on the face of the planet right now, and Edward can attest to that. Your heart is so open to love, that you worry so, so much. Your son was _your_ son, not some monster's, and if I had the chance, I would have raised him like my own, and he would have grown to be a beautiful and remarkable person just like his mother. I know that for a fact, just as I know he is up there in Heaven, being bathed in love. It is only in a cruel world where a mother must be separated from her son, but it is also in that cruel world that we find beauty. Beauty in the form of _love._ Nothing will ever fill that void in your heart, he will always be your child, you will always love him, but I will _always_ be here to try everything I can to make it better, because I love you. I love you so much, and I will, for every single second of every single minute that makes up eternity, I will always love you, and Edward will _always_ be your son _as well_ as Timothy."

She nodded into my chest as she sobbed, and I showered the top of her head in kisses.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed, "This is probably what you were afraid of, but I needed… I needed you to know what happened, because I… I can't be alone in that anymore… I needed you to know."

"I'm glad you told me," I breathed, as I rested my cheek on her soft hair, "You never need to be alone in anything ever again. _Ever._"

She exhaled and her body deflated remarkably in my embrace. She was all but indestructible; her body could withstand nearly anything that it was faced with, yet she was so unbelievably and beautifully delicate. Not her form, not her small, thin fingers that were so tiny compared to mine, in fact my pinky was the size of her middle finger. Nor her small, slender figure, so feminine beneath my hands, that wasn't delicate, but her _being _was. She treaded lightly upon the world. She was the wind in the summer, the snow in the winter, the leaves in the autumn, and the flowers in the spring. She did no harm, she left no damage – only beauty remained in her wake.

"I love you," I whispered, and I felt her relax.

"As I love you," she sighed, and pulled back, "From always to eternity."

I brushed away my favourite tendrils of her hair, and placed a soft kiss upon her forehead, "Thank you," I murmured.

"And thank _you._ Would you like to talk about your day more?" She wondered.

I thought about the young boy and the young girl who survived, and I wondered what their lives would be like from there on out. As I gazed down into her large, loving eyes, I nodded, "If that's all right?"

She smiled and led me over to the chaise, "It is indeed, all right."

We sat down and spent a great deal of time discussing the events of my day. She had some insightful ideas as to what may help the children, especially since she recalled who they were. It broke my heart when she asked for the names, and the light in her eyes dimmed a little, as though the asteroids were falling out of the sky. However, the limited amount of memories she had, pertaining to the children, helped me immensely with devising a recovery program for them. It was always easier when their personalities were not a mystery.

"Are you all right?" She wondered once our discussion was over.

"I'm always all right," I murmured with a small smile, "I have you. Are you all right?"

She returned my small smile and placed a soft kiss on my cheek, "I'm much the same."

I squeezed her hand, "But enough of the morbid, will you fill my head with lovely things?" I wondered, and she nodded, smiling to herself, happier now.

"Do you harbour any particular fond feelings toward any singular number?" She wondered.

I chuckled, and nuzzled my nose into her hair, "Hmmm, not really, although I suppose I'm more partial to three and seven more than any others. If I really _had_ to choose, that is."

"I thought that may be the case," I could hear the smile in her voice, "Because I was thinking, we should get married early next month. The autumn rain should have subsided and the cloud cover will be dense. We cold get married on the third or the seventh, if that sounds all right to you?"

I beamed into her hair, "All right? It sounds so much better than all right."

She giggled, "Well ideally, I'd get married to you right now if I could, but I _do _want it to be perfect, for the both of us. I want you to know what it feels like to have a woman dressed in white walking down the isle to stand by your side, and although I'd look back on any wedding to you with a fond smile, if we can do the whole white thing, why not?"

"Why not, indeed?" I whispered.

"So a month will give the dressmakers long enough to create _something,_ and it will be long enough in advance to book a church, and choose our vows, rings, flowers, everything. But no longer than a month. I have been waiting ten long years to marry you, Doctor Cullen. A month more is all I can manage. I am not a patient woman."

I chuckled, "I have been waiting nearly three centuries to marry you, Miss Platt. A month more is all I can manage too."

She snuggled in closer to my chest, and I cherished how it felt to have her soft cheek touching the spot above my un-beating heart through the thin material of my shirts, and her dainty fingers playing with my collar, while her other delicate hand rested on my knee under my own strong fingers.

"What date would you prefer, my darling, the third, or the seventh?" I murmured into her exotic smelling hair, which was softer than I had ever imagined it to be.

"The third," she grinned, sliding her hand free and snaking both of her arms around my neck.

I pulled my head away from her hair, and gazed down into her tender golden eyes, "And why may that be, my love?" I beamed down at her.

"Because we have a family of three, and we all love each other, because my favourite paintbrush is the number three size, and because three comes before seven."

I chuckled and enveloped her lips in my own, knowing that I didn't need any vows to be murmured from her mouth to be certain that for better or worse, in trials and in triumph, she would be right by my side, making _everything_ all right… better than all right, really. So what a lucky man I am, to be able to know truth of her words, before she'd even spoken them, but also to have the promise of her promises in the very near future.

One more month, and Esme Anne Platt would be my wife… eternally. Every struggle that would face either one of us, would invariably and undoubtedly, for the remainder of every year the Lord hand planned to exist, face the _both _of us. Together.

* * *

_A.N. Hi again! This chapter didn't turn out how I planned it to be, it actually was more of a piece that came from a hard day I had a while back, and a conversation with a paramedic about a series of ethical issues involving children. After a long time in lab following that conversation I came home and, although there was not a spot of blood from the day's dissection on my skin, I felt like I was covered from head to toe in dirt. Cutting things up all day does this to you. Many people in a medical type profession (or med-school) find that they can never clean themselves enough, we always feel dirty, and so I got to wondering how vampires would feel after a long day of hard death. _

_In this chapter the accident was a fire because I have recently been leaning about burns to the skin, and so fire was in my mind. _

_Ethically, medical professionals aren't supposed to discuss their cases, but keeping everything bottled up is no good for anyone, so this is why I had Carlisle feel as though he __**needed**__ to tell Esme. After nearly 300 years of hard days and no one to talk to, her loving heart would have been so soothing to him, and I doubt he would have passed up the chance to discuss it all. Esme, the caring and amazing woman she is, would have wanted to hear all about it, no matter how much it hurt. Also, I think it's good for her to tell Carlisle what it was like to lose her child; a burden would definitely be lifted from her shoulders._

_All right, let's talk medical for a moment: We all know that Esme's son died around three days after his birth of lung fever (I've written it as he died in less than three days, this seemed more feasible to me). Now, lung fever is a very archaic term for __**pneumonia**__. Pneumonia in newborns is called neonatal pneumonia. Bacteria most commonly cause neonatal pneumonia, although a virus or fungi can be the cause. The __**most**__ common bacteria that causes neonatal pneumonia is called streptococci (Group A &amp; Group B), which also causes strep throat (Group A). Group B streptococci is bacteria that is a natural part of the intestines, it can also be present other places. If a child is born and the bacteria is present in the birthing canal during labor the child has a high chance of contracting Group B streptococcus, but it doesn't mean that it will happen! My best guess is that just like 20-40% of the female population, Esme was a GBS carrier, and in 1921, that would have been virtually untreatable – nowadays it's treated before birth with antibiotics, and antibiotics were just in the infant stages in 1921 – so Esme would have had no available treatment for this. Pneumonia, or lung fever, is generally treated with penicillin (a miracle drug, really), which wasn't 'discovered' until 1928 (although a lot of prior research went into it), so unfortunately like many newborns in his time, Esme's young son was not a case that medicine could help. Had he been born the same way today, his survival chances are so high, it's incredible how medicine has come so far, so fast. Okay, med-talk = done._

_Sorry once again for the long Authors note! But thank you for all your reviews, once more, your constant following, and all the lovely favourite's I've received. _

_To my lovely guest reviewer Anna – I'd not heard that one before. Perhaps they did? I have a different thing in mind for Isle Esme though __ I know somewhere on the internet it is said that Isle Esme was a wedding gift to Esme, but in Breaking Dawn it merely says a 'gift.' __**Is there anyone who can clear that up for me?**_

_My plan for the island involves _Jasper_ and _Zafrina_, (Just because I want to be cryptic about it!) so it doesn't crop up in my mind until after the 1950's. (The Cullen's met the Amazonian's in the 1940's, but as we all know, Alice and Jasper didn't pop in to say 'Hi!' until the 50's.)_

_And just because I like teasing the __**WEDDING**__ will be chapter _forty-something_. It could be chapter _forty_, it could be chapter _forty-nine_! But I'm not saying. Hehe!_

_Thanks, once more!_


	40. Trying Again (She's Getting There)

_Chapter Forty: Trying Again (She's Getting There)_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, November 1921_

_Carlisle_

"Carlisle, should one of us sit in the back with Esme? People will stare if we three are in the front," Edward murmured as we dashed across the damp lawn toward the garage.

I chuckled, stealing a glace at the lanky boy with dew in his wayward bronze hair, "You just want to drive."

He laughed quietly, "Well I'll not deny the truth."

Ginning, I chucked him the keys; he knew I'd give him anything he wanted. In one fluid motion, I opened the groaning garage door, and Edward sprinted to the driver's side of the car, but he did not open the door as I expected, instead he leaned up against it, throwing the keys in the air, staring at them thoughtfully.

"What is on your mind, son?" I wondered, as I made my way to stand beside him.

I reached up to touch his shoulder worriedly, but he smiled at me, "I need to take a trip to Chicago."

I raised an eyebrow, "Of course, when would you like to go? I'm sure Esme would love to see the city, and today will show us that she's ready to."

Edward shook his head before I could decide upon a delicate way to convince my beloved that she was ready for a more densely populated area.

"I'll go alone."

My brow furrowed in confusion, "Edward, it's no problem, Esme won't mind, I assure you..."

"It's not that," he shook his head, "You've been alone for nearly three centuries, Carlisle, you deserve a honeymoon, a _proper_ honeymoon. I don't think any of us want me to be third-wheeling on that honeymoon, and I need to go to Chicago, so there really couldn't be any other perfect time."

I couldn't argue with his logic, but him being in Chicago alone was a thought that gave me anxiety. Edward laughed, "Oh, come now, Carlisle, I'm twenty years old. It's time I grow up and be a man."

I gave him a rueful glance, "In my defence, you'll be stuck at seventeen in my mind."

He sighed, and I chuckled, "Your jokes are getting worse, old man."

My shoulders rose and fell in a simple shrug, "That's what three centuries will do to you. What is happening in Chicago that needs your attention?"

"Another matter that I need to discuss with you, but perhaps later. That distant relative of mine is still after my money, I'll have to go and prove to him that I'm still alive before much more time passes. I'll never be able to pull off looking much older than twenty."

I nodded, "Quite true."

Unlike with Esme's changing, how we needed to act as though she had died, Edward had no remaining family that would notice a difference in his appearance. Many of his peers had also lost their lives to the disease that took his, and the others were not ones he saw on a frequent basis. We were able to act as though he recovered from the disease, which was easily enough done when the hospital was so busy with dying patients that no one could keep track of any one in particular. This enabled Edward to inherit his parents' sizeable fortune. We invested the money, much like I'd done with my own, and the interest generated off of it was enough to ensure that Edward could purchase whatever he may please. We made a good business team, Edward and I. In fact before Esme joined our family we had been in deep discussions of beginning our very own company for the numerous businesses that we had considered beginning in our shared future. _We must reconsider that Edward; it would be an enjoyable venture._

He grinned and nodded, I knew he loved that side of life, "Esme could become an artist, you know." Edward murmured, "She's good enough, she could cerate aliases and kill them off every fifty years or so, have paintings hanging in galleries all over the world. We could help her, be her managers, or what not?"

I beamed at my son, "She'd love that, I'm sure."

He nodded, "We'll just have to phrase it in a way that won't lead her to think we'd like her to start making money for us," he chuckled, "Speaking of Esme, we should probably get the car around to the front."

I nodded and walked around to the passenger's side door, "We'll talk about Chicago tonight, yes?" I wondered, "Before my shift?"

He nodded, "And you'll have to think of a place you'd like to take Esme on your honeymoon. Please don't just decide to stay here, take her somewhere nice. You know how much she loves adventure."

I grinned, "I'm not sure where I'll take her though..."

Edward shrugged, "Canada?"

"I wonder how long it would take for us to reach far enough north to see the aurora?" I mused, "It's probably not the best viewing at this time of year, but I'm sure she'd love to see them. Manitoba has good viewing all year round, I'm fairly certain, and Yellowknife is rather good too."

"That sounds lovely," Edward murmured as he started the car, there was a note of indifference in his voice.

"Although, I suppose that trip could wait until the three of us go together. I'm sure we could find somewhere just as nice, closer, without any spectacular astronomic events."

"Carlisle, I..."

"Edward," I interrupted grinning, "Don't try to convince me otherwise. I'd like to see your face when you catch sight of them."

He flicked me a grin, "That would be nice. I'd like to go there."

"It's settled then, we'll choose somewhere else."

Edward sped the car around to the front of the house, where Esme was waiting on the steps.

I climbed out of the passenger seat as the car idled and dashed up for her hand, "How long have you been waiting?" I wondered.

She beamed, "Long enough to catch you planning a family vacation, and plotting your ways to get me to make money for the family," she winked, and I chuckled. I stole a glance at Edward's smirking face; _You really ought to start telling me when she's listening to what I say._

Edward laughed as I helped Esme into the backseat, but ignored her quizzical expression. He sped off down the driveway once we were both settled, still snickering to himself.

"You look lovely," I murmured to Esme, who had her hair pinned up in soft waves under one of her new hats, and her favourite brown coat over one of her lovely winter dresses.

"Thank you," she murmured, "I have to make a good impression," she laughed as she leaned over to press a kiss to my cheek, but I caught her by surprise when I caught her lips in mine.

Edward cleared his throat, so we parted and shared a conspiratorial smile.

He ignored us and spoke, "So, firstly we're visiting the dress shop, and then we're driving passed all the churches in Washburn to find one that is preferably built from stone, with an old pastor who won't remember us, and ideally isn't Catholic, all before we take a lovely stroll downtown, visiting the library and things of the like, including the florist where we're choosing flowers for the wedding, yes?"

Esme grinned and nodded, "That sounds about right."

"And I'm not forgetting the homewares store, don't worry. Shall we venture into he hardware store as well? We can pretend that we're shopping for Carlisle and I?"

Esme looked away bashfully, "Oh, that's not really necessary. I can order paint from a catalogue."

Edward shrugged, "I want to investigate some new tools anyway."

"Well," Esme murmured, "If we're going for you, then I don't see why not."

"Good," Edward murmured, pushing the gas pedal down further, "I hope you don't mind the speed, Esme."

"Yes, we should have warned you earlier, Edward drives the same way he paints," I interjected.

Esme beamed up at me, "Like Picasso would, after a few pints?"

Edward laughed from the front seat as I nodded, grinning. "Enough about me," he laughed, "Esme, where would _you _like to visit for your honeymoon?"

She pursed her lips as she considered it for a moment, "I'm not sure," she murmured, "But we should take a trip to the Apostle islands one day and swim around in the sea caves. I'd love to see them."

Edward nodded, "As would I, but we should probably go at night."

"I suppose it doesn't really make much of a difference to our eyes, does it?"

Edward and I both shook our heads, as she turned to me, seeking my approval of the idea.

I grinned, "That sounds lovely. We could plan it for this month, or perhaps after we arrive back."

She nodded absentmindedly, her train of thought having derailed, by a thought I would have loved to hear. I placed a chaste kiss on her hairline to bring her mind back for a moment, she looked up to me curiously, "I suppose you heard that Edward is planning to go to Chicago?"

She nodded and turned to the boy, "I do wish you'd let us come with you," but he just shook his head.

She let out an adorable huff, "They just have to grow up, don't they?"

Edward chuckled, "I am growing my wings, and flying away!"

A flicker of excitement flashed in Esme's eyes before she masterfully hid it, and stared out the window, humming.

"What was that, Esme?" Edward wondered, but his mother didn't reply aloud. I watched as his eyes narrowed, "What are you hiding from me?"

Esme merely grinned, "My head, my secrets."

It was safe to say that my curiosity had been piqued, but I could wait until she was ready to tell me.

The landscape soared by the windows as Edward flew down the gravel roads at a speed I appreciated, but did not approve of. I earned a smirk at that thought.

Esme spent most of the drive ogling at the scenery out the window in her endearing, wonder-filled manner. Seeing her stare out the window in such a way reminded me of a few nights before, the first time Esme had ever read to me. It was usually I who comforted her with the words from the geniuses of a past time.

_The library was dark, the only light came from the flames of the fire in my beloved old hearth, and I was basking in a rare night off, thrilled to be spending it with two of my favourite things: books, and Esme. I could feel her eyes upon my back, drinking me in as though she was addicted as I scanned the large bookshelves that lined the walls. I was looking for a particular volume of comparative anatomy that Edward often liked to hide. He was a gentleman and a moody musician by nature, but buried deep there was an unmistakeable cheeky sense of humour he'd not lost with age. Finding it far above my head, I reached up for it, stretching and standing on the tips of my toes. A self-satisfied grin spread over my face as I reached it and pulled it down. Turning around to Esme's spot on the chaise, I noticed a large grin upon her face, which naturally made mine grow wider. I wondered what had her in such high spirits, the height of which made mine fly higher._

"_Is that a good book?" I wondered._

_She looked up and met my curious gaze, "Hmm?"_

"_You're not even reading that, are you?" I couldn't help the toothy grin that spread over my face._

_She shook her head as an impish grin took over her lips._

_Glad she was sharing my somewhat cheeky mood, I laughed and walked over to the chaise. She scooted to the side, in order to make room for me. When I took the seat by her side, my arm reflexively wrapped around her shoulders, and she nestled her head in the crook of my neck; almost simultaneously we sighed, and then shared my favourite private laugh. _

"_What stole your thoughts so far away from that book, my love?" I wondered._

_She grinned, "Your hand."_

_Surprise flooded my mind, "My hand?" I paused, "Only one?" I teased._

_She giggled, "Yes, just one."_

"_Hmmm, perhaps I have more impact than I first believed…"_

"_I don't like that tone, Doctor Cullen," she warned, but she couldn't wipe the smile off of her face._

"_Well, I do apologise, Miss Platt, most sincerely." We both knew, in truth, my apology wasn't sincere at all, "Would you like my hand in payment of my impoliteness?"_

"_Yes," she stated simply, "Yes, I would."_

_She held her hand out expectantly, and I put down my book before placing my right hand in hers with a laugh._

"_Oh, no," she murmured seriously, "That won't do. I'd like the other hand, thank you."_

_I laughed harder as I removed my left arm from her shoulders and replaced my right hand with it._

"_That's better," she murmured, placing her left hand atop mine, her engagement ring shining in the muted light. She smiled lovingly at the sight._

"_Soon," she murmured ever so quietly, "I won't be the only one with a ring."_

_I sat in silence as a marvelled at the thought, in a month's time; I would be a married man for the remainder of eternity. My heart soared so high, I lost it._

"_I suppose, of course, you can't wear it at the hospital, it might raise too many questions," her sweet voice floated from her lips drenched with disheartenment._

"_My love, I will proudly wear my ring every where I go, because it is a constant reminder of you. The whole of Ashland knows that Doctor Cullen is in love, and soon they will know that he is be married. I would not have it any other way."_

_She looked up to me with her doe eyes wide, "Truthfully?"_

_I grinned, "Truthfully."_

"_And the next place we live, I will be known as Mrs. Cullen from the very beginning," she murmured whimsically._

_I placed a long kiss on her head, "You will, and you have no idea how happy that makes me."_

_I had few doubts that a wedding ring would stop the advances of the nurses I was sure to meet in the future, but perhaps upon seeing Esme they would realize just how impossible it was for me to love somebody other than her._

"_Carlisle?" She murmured sweetly, in her singsong curious manner._

"_Love?"_

_"Do you know every fairytale?" She wondered._

_I glanced down at the book in her lap, and recognised it immediately as my old edition of Grimm's Fairytales._

_I shook my head, "Only the very well known ones, Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Snow White and what-not."_

"_Have you ever heard of one called Dr. Know-All?"_

_I shook my head, "I have not."_

_She beamed up at me, "It's one of my favourites."_

"_Would you read it to me?" I wondered, my eagerness flooded into my tone quite obviously._

_She nodded, and turned to head back to the words on paper, but before she could begin, she was struck by a sudden thought. She met my eyes once again, hers alight with curiosity. _

_"Has anyone ever read you a fairytale before?" She wondered._

_I let out a laugh, "No, I've never had a fairytale read to me before."_

_"Then this is a definite privilege," she murmured, grinning from ear to ear, as she dropped her gaze back to the page._

_I got lost in every sound that came from her mouth, every word, every breath, every silence. If I was not all ready in love with her, I would have fallen right then and right there, for she read to me as a mother reads to her child, with infinite care and love. The way she read was the way she lived – bringing a new definition to beauty._

She read the same way she watched the world fly by her window. I was struck by the sheer weight of my adoration for her beautiful soul.

We arrived in Washburn quicker than most would. When we parked on the side of the road very near the clothing store, Edward turned around to look at us in the back seat.

"What are their thoughts like?" I wondered.

"Mrs. Fortendue is eager to meet Esme, she's excited, intrigued and only a little envious. Mary has convinced herself that the only reason you're marrying Esme – or _Anna_ – is because she's dying and you're too kind to let her die without knowing what it is like to have someone care for her, either that or you're doing it because you don't want the people in town to think you're living in sin, and Hazel is just feeling honoured that she gets to help dress the woman who is marrying the _amazing_ Doctor Cullen."

Esme turned back to look at me, "What if they don't like me, Carlisle?" She murmured.

"Impossible," I whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead, "They will absolutely adore you."

She bit the inside of her lips, still unconvinced, but nodded. The now familiar bravery burned determinedly in her eyes.

I looked to Edward, "Ready?"

He nodded.

"Esme?"

She took a deep breath, "Ready."

I squeezed her hand as I opened the door and slid out, quickly dashing around to the other side of the car to help her out.

"Thank you," she whispered as I tucked her arm through mine.

"Everything will be all right," I assured her, "They will love you, and if your thirst gets too bad, tell them you're not feeling well and you need to see me. We'll step out, and come back another day if need be."

She nodded, "All right. I can do this."

She reached down to smooth her skirt, as Edward ducked in front of us to get the door.

"You look exquisite, my love," I murmured in her ear, and my favourite bashful smile spread across her face.

A little bell signalled Edward's entrance into the store, and I heard scuffling feet quickly coming our way. The Fortendue's Washburn store was much smaller than their Ashland premises, but still one of the largest dressmaker's stores in the area. I climbed the steps leading up to the entrance, and reached out for the door that Edward held open. I watched Esme as she gazed at the mannequin through the glass at the top of the stairs, she gave her head a little shake, and I noticed the amused glint in her eye as she analysed the orange and green flapper dress on display beneath the elegant golden letters, _Fortendue's._

"Orange and green, not your favourite colours?" I wondered as I held open the door to our left.

She shook her head, "I like blue," she shot me an impish grin, "I can't believe you don't remember!"

I chuckled as Mrs. Fortendue's enthusiastic greeting floated out the open door. "Mr. Masen! How delightful! Are you well, my boy?"

"Very well, thank you Mrs. Fortendue, and yourself?" Edward replied formally, ever the gentleman.

"I am all fine and dandy. You're looking very spiffy, Mr. Masen, is this suit new?" Esme stifled a giggle as she stepped through the open door, into the empty entranceway.

"Yes, thank you," Edward's tone was almost clipped; I wondered what thought caused the sudden change, more scuffled footsteps entered into the store at the same time I did.

"You have met my daughters, haven't you? This is Mary, and Hazel. They'll be helping me today with your cousin."

"A pleasure," Edward nodded.

I looped my arm through Esme's once again, and together we rounded the corner. The three Fortendue women were gazing at Edward with the reverence I knew all too well. He accused me of not allowing him to be decidedly frightening instead of charming (the only two temperaments a vampire had, according to my son), and therefore attracting all of the women that he could have scared away. It was a requirement of my job to gain the trust of my patients, and it would make that rather difficult if my only family – as he was, at the time of this discussion – had a reputation of being unsettling company. I earned a brief glower as he turned around to face us, and introduce the beauty on my arm.

The women's expression soon turned from awe to complete and utter surprise. Their eyes grew wide, their mouths parted slightly and their heartbeats accelerated. Understandably so, for they were seeing a female vampire for the very first time – Esme was the most beautiful woman that they had ever laid eyes on.

"Mrs. Fortendue, Miss Mary, Miss Hazel, a pleasure to see you all again," I murmured, "I'd like you to meet my fiancée, Miss Anna Masen."

Esme offered up a timid smile as she carefully watched the women.

Mrs. Fortendue quickly recovered and her face lit up brighter than an electric bulb, "Miss Masen! How lovely it is to finally meet you! We've been waiting such a long time for Doctor Cullen to bring you in! And of course, it's always a pleasure to see you, Doctor!"

I gave her a small nod, and rubbed Esme's hand as she took a small breath, "It's a pleasure to meet you too, Mrs. Fortendue. I must thank you for the lovely clothes you chose for me during my early weeks in Ashland."

Mrs. Fortendue's daughters, Mary and Hazel, were each wearing a different expression that depicted the mix of emotions coursing through their system. Mary's expression was a mix of surprise, and envy, while Hazel's expression was mostly excitement, mixed with shock.

"Girls," Mrs. Fortendue hissed somewhat discreetly, "Greet our customers."

Hazel was the first of the two girls to recover, but she didn't quite recover completely, for she smiled and curtsied to us, "It's a pleasure to be of your acquaintance, m'lady."

Mrs. Fortendue blushed in embarrassment at her daughter's actions, but Esme did not notice the extra blood in the women's face, I doubt she missed the added aroma in the air, but she seemed to ignore it. Her attention was focussed on Hazel's beaming expression.

"Mary?" Mrs. Fortendue murmured to her eldest daughter once she had recovered from the embarrassment caused by her youngest.

"Ahh," Mary's voice sounded strangled, "Pleasure it is to meet you, Masen, Miss."

Esme – ever the courteous lady – merely smiled and ignored their little eccentricities.

Mrs. Fortendue laughed awkwardly, but stepped forward comfortably, "Let us not dilly dally," she offered Esme a warm smile, "What's the brief, Doctor?"

I was surprised that she was asking me, until I realised that she knew I'd be paying, "Anything Miss. Masen so desires. Spare no expense ladies, her every wish, must be our every command."

The three women nodded at me in such a fashion, they nearly appeared to be hypnotised, but Esme – seemingly oblivious to my charm – looked away bashfully.

Edward tried – and failed – to stifle his laughter, so he tried to hide it in a very unconvincing coughing fit.

Apparently, the coughing fit was very convincing to the ladies, though, "Oh, Mr. Masen! Are you quite all right?" Mrs. Fortendue wondered, snapping out of hypnotised dazed, her big brown eyes were wide with worry.

He cleared his throat, "Yes. Yes, I'm just fine, thank you. However, we do have a lot to do today, so we must get on…" He gestured toward Esme.

"Yes, of course!" Mrs. Fortendue held her arms open to Esme, who glanced up at me, apprehension in her eyes.

"Go. Have fun. Believe in yourself, and I love you," I murmured, bending down to place a chaste kiss on her cheek.

She nodded, "All right, I love you too." Taking a deep breath of bravery, she followed Mrs. Fortendue into the back room.

"Don't worry, Doctor Cullen," Hazel beamed excitedly before she turned to leave, "We'll take great care of her!"

I gave her a brief smile and nodded, feeling anxiety crawl into my stomach. Of course I believed in Esme, but she was still a newborn, if any blood was accidentally spilt, she'd never be able to resist.

"Breathe, old man," Edward murmured, clapping me on the back, before turning around to take a seat upon a sofa I had not even noticed before.

I took a brief moment to familiarize myself with the store. The flooring was deep green, the wallpaper was light pink, and there were sporadic displays of outlandish outfits one would have been arrested for wearing a while ago. There were headpieces with feathers, and mannequins coated in fur with strings of pearls around their necks, so long, they could jump rope with them.

"Women's fashion changes too much," Edward sighed.

I chuckled but nodded, "In a hundred years, we'll probably still be dressed like this, and who knows what they'll be wearing."

Edward grinned his lopsided grin, "They'll probably be dressed in suits too."

It was then that the voices from the back room wafted toward us.

"All right!" Mary giggled, "Now it's just us girls, we can have some girl talk!"

"Don't you go making Miss Masen uncomfortable, Mary," Mrs. Fortendue chided, "She is our valued customer, not one of your young friends."

Mary mumbled incoherently as Mrs. Fortendue addressed Esme, "All right, darling. Don't be shy, let's see what we're dealing with."

In an effort to avoid contemplating Esme in her underwear I turned to Edward, _She's doing well_, I thought to him.

He nodded and smiled.

_Is she all righ_t?

He nodded again, but something in his eyes told me no, hearing my concern he pointed to his throat, and gave me thumbs up.

_Her thirst is okay?_

He gave me a confident nod. _But something is wrong? _I wondered, feeling the anxiety grow stronger in my belly.

"She's a modest person," he mouthed, "They make her uncomfortable."

_What can I do to help?_ I wondered worriedly.

"Do you think Einstein will come back to the country soon? It's a shame we missed him when he was here."

_Will our talking help her?_ I wondered, and he nodded.

"Yes," I murmured, "I am sorry about that. We might find him elsewhere though."

Edward raised his eyebrows, "You're truly considering travel?"

I nodded, "I don't see why not. I'd enjoy showing you both around."

"But your work?" He wondered.

I shot him an impish grin, "I've got ideas."

"Where would we go first?" He asked.

"If we arrived in Ireland, we could head to London?"

Edward nodded, "There are a lot of people in London I would like to make the acquaintance of."

I laughed, "I have some friends in Ireland first though, I'd like to introduce them to you. I also have a list of people I'd like to find in London, Esme too, methinks. "

He saw the pictures in my mind and grinned widely, "I can just picture her face."

We shared a laugh.

"Are we getting special suits made for the wedding?" He wondered.

I nodded, "I can't see Esme wanting to get married again, so I think we should do it properly."

"Oh my gosh!" A loud voice from the other room caught our attention, I was on my feet before the sentence was done, but Edward's hand on my arm stopped me from barging into the room, "Look at you! You're perfect!"

I sighed in relief as I sat back down.

"Doctor Cullen is one lucky man!" The voice I recognised as Mary's, wafted from the other room, "You are positively blessed."

"Hush Mary!" Hazel exclaimed, "You're embarrassing her."

"But look at those _curves._"

I felt my teeth gritting together upon hearing the girls' conversation, I knew how uncomfortable Esme would be. Truth be told, she did have beautiful curves, and I'd not gone without noticing them, even despite the shapeless clothes that were in fashion, but Esme was much more than just outwardly beautiful. She didn't deserve to be talked about and observed like she was some immoral model in a tasteless men's magazine.

"Calm down, Carlisle," Edward murmured as Mrs. Fortendue scolded her eldest daughter, "And I'm surprised you even know those magazines exist."

_Some of the men I have worked with…_

"You eavesdropper," Edward whispered, and I couldn't help the laugh that bubbled from my throat at the irony.

"All right, darling," Mrs. Fortendue murmured, "Let's measure! Tell me what were you thinking of, for the dress? Beading, perhaps?"

"Lace," Esme's voice was quiet, and bashful.

"She's a classic then!" Mary exclaimed.

Hazel piped in then, and began the interrogation, "A modern silhouette?"

There was no answer.

"Will she have silk or satin?"

"Doctor Cullen did say 'spare no expense', remember?"

"Silk it is then!"

"Uh, ah. It depends if Miss Masen wants the shimmer of silk, or the gloss of satin?"

There was a slight paused, and Edward grinned, "Doctor Cullen said spare no expense, Miss Masen," he murmured.

Mere moments later, Esme replied in a quiet tone, "Silk, please."

_She was really worried about price?_ I stared at Edward quizzically, and he nodded.

I sighed, "Love," I knew she'd hear me, "I have over two centuries worth of a Doctor's salary hidden away in numerous different bank accounts, you could try very, very hard, and still be unable to bleed me dry," Edward laughed at my choice of words, "So please, _spare no expense._"

Hazel continued talking, having not heard our quiet conversation, "We've found the newest silks from Paris! We always order them just in case. We knew, one day, the good doctor would find a lovely woman who he endeavoured to make his wife, and we were prepared."

"After all, how could you say no to a face like that?" Mary's voice was nearly whimsical.

"Quite easily, I'd imagine. It's the mind behind the face that I said yes to." Esme's voice was still shy and delicate, but there was a beautiful fierceness behind it that sent my heart soaring.

"And _that_ is why you'll be together forever, you know!" Hazel giggled.

"A tulle veil?" Mrs. Fortendue wondered.

"Lace?" Esme suggested.

"Perfect!"

"How about shoes?" Mary and Hazel's voices were hard to distinguish. The only clues as to which one was talking, was the kind of question they asked. Mary was nosy, Hazel was curious.

"None yet."

"Barefoot?" Hazel was serious in her question, which made Esme laugh.

"Oh, certainly."

The girls' laughter joined in, and I was glad they were growing more comfortable in each other's company.

"Pearls?" Mrs. Fortendue wondered once their laughter had subsided.

"Undoubtedly."

"Orange blossom?" I tried to imagine the girls' curious eyes as they bombarded my betrothed with questions they thought I couldn't hear.

I looked to Edward as Esme replied, "Of course," to the pestering women.

_How's her thirst?_ I wondered.

"A bouquet?" Mary asked out back.

"This afternoon." Esme replied simply, as Edward gave me the thumbs up.

"Colours?" I was curious about that answer too.

"Blue?" Of course! There should be no other colour.

Edward chuckled beside me.

"Not pink?" Mary wondered.

Esme's voice was definite when she replied, "Not pink."

"Groomsmen?"

"Edward."

"Bridesmaids?"

"None."

There was another brief silence, and I felt guilty that she wouldn't have anyone to stand beside her.

Edward pointed to me, and I'll admit, I smiled. He was right, she would definitely have me to stand with.

"Who is walking you down the isle?"

"I'm hoping the isle isn't too long." I watched as Edward's brow furrowed at Esme's cryptic answer, curiously, he looked more annoyed than confused.

"Church?" Hazel wondered quietly, she was obviously uncomfortable with the style of pestering that her sister preferred, but her curiosity got the better of her.

"Indeed."

"Pastor?" Mary's tone was not at all as hesitant as Hazel's.

"Hopefully."

A peal of laughter floated from the room, the softest of them all, not at all the humour-filled laugh I knew, was the musical chimes from the woman I loved.

"Honeymoon?" Mary asked once the laughter was done.

"Of course."

"No!" Hazel laughed, "Where?"

"We're not sure."

"Are you having a reception, dear?" Mrs. Fortendue asked slowly, "Sorry, I'll try and hurry here, you're very cold. We'd better get you wrapped up again."

"We're just having a service, and it's all right, Mrs. Fortendue, I'm always either blistering hot or frozen cold. It's the sickness." Esme's was a very feasible answer, I was proud.

"This month?" Mary ignored her mother's worry.

"December," Esme was careful not to corner herself into a place where she felt pressured into inviting them.

"Early?" Mary seemed dissatisfied with Esme's coy reply.

Silence.

"What date?" I nearly groaned at her nosiness, but Esme's reply made me smile.

"Within the first week."

"Religious?" Hazel cut in before Mary could invite herself.

"Christian." Surprisingly, or unsurprisingly really, Esme suggested that we celebrate with a religious ceremony. She thought it would be more special for me, I couldn't resist wrapping her in my arms and covering her face in kisses when she looked to the floor and said 'Unless that's wrong because I'm not a Christian.' She was far too thoughtful for her own good.

"Holy water?" Hazel wondered naively, Edward and I stifled a laugh.

"Candles." I could hear the smile in Esme's voice, she liked Hazel.

"Praying?"

"Yes."

Mary cut back in again, "Cake?"

"No." _It would be very entertaining if we did have cake._ Edward grinned as I pictured him covered in icing.

"Dancing?"

"At home, perhaps." Edward raised an eyebrow at me, and I nodded, _That would be nice. Would you play?_ He grinned and nodded.

"Where will Edward go?" The boy rolled his eyes.

"He has business elsewhere."

"And the hospital?"

"Will undoubtedly remain in its same place."

Giggles erupted at Esme's wit; Edward and I could not stifle our own chuckles.

"No! What will they do without Doctor Cullen?" Hazel talked as though I was indispensible. The look Edward gave me made me believe that perhaps everyone else thought I was too. Now I wasn't looking forward to handing in my resignation so much.

"They will continue on, I'd hope."

"How long are you going for?"

"No more than a week."

"Are you excited?"

No answer.

They spent the next few minutes discussing whether or not they would make Esme a 'going away' honeymoon dress. With reassurance from me delivered by Hazel's bashful head that popped through the crack in the door, they began to quiz Esme on what type of honeymoon dress she would like.

"All right, girls let's focus on the wedding gown. Miss Masen, you're all done there, now you can wrap yourself back up again and we'll talk about design. Now, were you wanting long sleeves, or short sleeves?"

I heard the soft fabric sliding over her skin as she quickly covered herself back up, "Long."

"Of silk?" Mary wondered, and I heard human footsteps wander over to a draw, before pulling it open and lifting material out.

"Perhaps lace?" Esme suggested.

There were murmurs of agreement.

"And the waist band, low?" Mary wondered.

Esme didn't answer out loud.

"How long do you want the dress, dear?" Mrs. Fortendue was busy scribbling notes onto paper.

"Floor length?" Esme's uncertainty turned all of her replies into questions.

"A train?" Hazel suggested.

"I'd like a long veil," I didn't miss the note of disheartenment in my love's voice.

"Both?" Mrs. Fortendue must have noticed the same thing.

"Yes," I could hear the smile in her voice again.

"Now, the lace, any preferences?"

"Antique." I grinned, _of course_.

"What kind of veil cap?"

"I'm not overly patrial to them, perhaps if it only came to here?"

"Yes, they're lovely. I have some magazines here that we can flick through," Mrs. Fortendue murmured quietly as her heavy footsteps crossed the room. Something moved to my side and my head whipped around to see Edward - who I hadn't noticed, had been reading a magazine – lifted his head up quickly, and was staring intently at the door.

I was about to ask him what was wrong, for he ignored the alarm in my thoughts, when Esme murmured, "I'm sorry, forgive me, but what is the time?" Her voice sounded very quiet.

"It's quarter to eleven, dear." Mrs. Fortendue said distractedly.

"Oh, I must take my medication, excuse me." I stood up immediately, and Edward did the same. Esme ducked out of the room and bee-lined for my open arms. Her eyes were frantic and darkening rapidly.

"Outside," Edward murmured, his own eyes frantically moving around the room.

Keeping Esme neatly tucked into my chest I ducked out the door, with Edward close on our tails. The fresh wind had hit our faces when I heard the quiet murmur from inside the small changing room, "Oh, shoot!"

_Pins._

I helped Esme down the steps and navigated our way, with Edward, into a small alleyway. She looked up at me with a mixed expression in her eyes; it was remorseful, and almost frightened.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

I hugged her tighter and kissed her hairline, "Don't apologise, be proud of yourself, you left before it became too much, and we averted a little crisis there, it turned out perfectly."

She shook her head, "But… she came so close and she smelt so lovely, it seemed like a good idea for a short moment."

"I know," I nodded, "It does, but part of restraint is realising that it's not a good idea. This is a hard thing to do, my love. We are denying ourselves the one thing we want most, but we are doing it for a good reason. We are choosing the human inside us over the animal. We all have those thoughts, and today you did spectacularly, you decided not to listen to them."

"If I'd have smelt the blood…" she trailed off.

"But you didn't. You did wonderfully. You were in an unventilated room with three humans for fifteen minutes. Esme, that is incredible, you're still a newborn."

Her brow pulled together in an expression I now knew would cause tears to roll down her face if she could produce them, "I can't do it again today."

I hugged her tighter again, and rubbed her back, "That's all right, I don't expect you to."

"The blood has stopped," Edward murmured, I looked at him, his expression was apprehensive, "Carlisle, I –"

I nodded, Edward was young too; I didn't expect him to be able to control himself around blood.

_Make sure she's okay_, he nodded, and gave me a look of thanks.

"It's time to hug _me_ now, Esme," Edward gave his mother a grin, and she nodded. I kissed her on the forehead before she wrapped her arms around Edward, and I headed for the store.

The smell of blood was faint in the store when I re-entered, but it was enough to send a newborn vampire into a craze. The front room was empty; I could hear some rustling around in the back room, as well as a muted voice.

"Mary," whispered Hazel, "If this was Jane Austen's _Persuasion, _Doctor Cullen would be Captain Wentworth, Miss Masen would be Anne Elliot, and you – like all the other girls pining over him – would be Louisa Musgrove. Wentworth much prefers Anne to Louisa because Anne is a _woman_ while Louisa is a _girl. _It makes sense that an intelligent man like Doctor Cullen would choose an intelligent woman like Miss Masen. She would _interest _him. Oooh, I wonder if she's political? I bet she voted, you know. I bet she and Doctor Cullen spend their long nights in some secluded corner of some gorgeous library discussing books, and poetry, and art, and science, and _everything, _with old oil lamps in whispers while stealing kisses."

"Hazel, oddly, you make that sound sinful."

"Everything seems sinful to _you_ Mary, your mind is _so_ improper."

"Never mind that, are you saying that Doctor Cullen is Mr. Darcy, and Miss Masen is Elizabeth Bennet in her most annoyingly argumentative of ways? That's not very nice, you know. You should get your head out of those books, Hazel. They'll do you no good."

I cleared my throat, and two flustered girls appeared in the doorway, "Doctor Cullen!" Mary exclaimed.

Hazel looked around, "Where is Miss and Mr. Masen?"

"Miss Masen hasn't taken to her new medication very well at all. I'll have to take her home now, is your mother around?" I wondered.

"Oh, forgive us, she pricked her finger just after your Miss Masen left, she's just out the back now. Would you like me to get her?" Hazel offered.

"I was merely going to ask if there was anything I needed to take for Miss Masen, to help her make decisions?"

"Oh, indeed!" Exclaimed Hazel as Mary ogled at me, "Mary, be a dear, go and grab those magazines will you? I'm sure Doctor Cullen would be very appreciative."

Mary beamed, and dashed off into the back room.

Hazel laughed at her older sister, "I apologise about her, she gets distracted very easily."

I smiled, "No matter."

"I say, Doctor Cullen?" Hazel murmured, I raised my eyebrows, "Does your Miss Masen happen to like books?"

I smiled, "She does indeed."

"Ah," she nodded, smiling to herself.

"Is there any particular reason why?" I wondered.

Hazel shook her head, "No, not really. Only, it's just, my sister teases me that I'll always be lonely if I have my head in a book the whole time, and Miss Masen seems lovely and not lonely in the least, and I'd quite like to follow in her footsteps, so I was just curious if perhaps my sister is wrong."

I let out a little laugh, "Between you and I, Hazel, I think she is."

The young girl beamed at me as her older sister appeared carrying a stack of bridal magazines, "Here you go, Doctor Cullen," she battered her eyelashes as she walked my way, but stumbled over her feet in nervousness.

"Thank you," I murmured, reaching out for the books, careful not to touch her skin.

"Doctor Cullen!" Mrs. Fortendue appeared in the doorway, "Where is your family?"

"Miss Masen hasn't taken well to her new medication," Hazel murmured to her mother, "The poor thing. It's not life threatening, is it, Doctor? Miss Masen is too lovely to die."

I smiled, "Not life threatening that we know of, but she will invariably be sick for the remainder of her life."

Hazel looked downcast, "That's such a shame. It's a good thing she's marrying a doctor!"

I merely smiled and turned back to her mother, "When would you like Miss Masen's decisions?"

"When will you need the dress by?" She wondered.

"Preferably the end of this month."

"I'll need the decisions as soon as possible," her face was tight; I would have to pay her a lot for the overtime she would be putting in.

I nodded, "I'll get her to select them tonight, and I'll bring them in tomorrow. Make sure to charge me for every minute you spend on this dress, Mrs. Fortendue. _Spare no expense._"

The girls all grinned, and Mrs. Fortendue nodded, after exchanging thank yous, I left.

Edward was helping Esme into the car when I arrived back outside. Mentally thanking him, I climbed into the car after her, and held her close when she buried her face in my shoulder.

"Esme, you are doing so well," I murmured into her hair.

She nodded, taking deep breaths of my scent. Edward started the car.

"The ladies gave me magazines for you. Tonight you can sift through them and pick out everything you like," I murmured into her hair, "Would you still like to look at the churches nearby?"

She nodded, I pulled away to check her eyes in case her answer was bourn of pride, but they had begun to lighten.

She offered up a small smile, "I think I'm all right, just as long as I have a lot of air, and you both, I'll be fine."

I placed a kiss on her hairline, "I won't let you out of my sight," I promised, "I'm sorry for the pain that caused you, my love."

Shaking her head as Edward pulled away from the curb, she smiled, "In the end, it's worth it," she tilted her head up for a quick kiss, "Because it means I get to marry you."

My answering smile was wide and delighted, as the car navigated the streets of Washburn, after all that had happened in the short half hour just gone, I was more than ready for the gentle and brave women beside me to become my wife.

I had brought her into the kind of story that gave young children nightmares, of bloodlust and sins. I had always worked to make sure the nightmarish qualities of our lives were lessened, and more light was welcomed in, but now that I had her, I was prepared to fight everything that may stand in my way, to make this a fairytale. I was prepared to give her everything she was never bold enough to dream of, because she had given me everything I needed, and more. She fought my demons with a sword of pure sunshine, and saved me from the darkest corner of my life, she deserved a happily ever after and, only the good Lord knows why, she decided to spend that happily ever after by _my_ side.

* * *

_A.N. Sorry all, for the wait. One more week of exams and I'll have the next month to spend writing (Why I'm studying medicine and not writing I have no idea, I seem to much prefer the latter). _

_Thank you all once again for your reviews, I love them so much. Hopefully the next chapter won't be too long coming, I think I wrote half of it a while ago when I was dreaming of churches, so it should be done soon with a little bit of tweaking. Now I have to get back to neurophysiology, so sprinkle my days with sunshine by reviewing, please?_

_Oh, and thanks for all the help with Isle Esme!_

_Much love x_


	41. Do You See The Way The Light Flows?

_Chapter Forty-One: Do You See the Way the Light Flows? _

_Ashland, Wisconsin, November 1921_

_Esme_

When I was young the one thing that always helped me clear my head was the feel of the wind on my face and in my hair, and the smell of the freshness assaulting my senses. I happened upon a brilliant stroke of pure luck when I fell in love with a man who smelt like fresh air. Carlisle's scent continued to calm me as we drove away from the Fortendue's dress shop. The ladies were lovely – nosy, but lovely – as they helped me choose the style for my wedding dress, but they just smelt so _divine._ I almost could not resist. The burning in my throat intensified, until it was a scorching wildfire, but Carlisle's fresh air was the water I needed to subdue it, until I could have the animal blood that would put it out.

I buried my head into the crook of his neck and took deep steady breaths as Edward navigated the streets, beginning our search for a church. The easiest activity of the day, I expected, because I would remain in the car for a great portion of the time; calming down.

I soon found that finding a church was _not_ easy. I liked St. Louis', it was made of a brilliant deep red stone, but it was Catholic, so we just drove passed. Messiah Lutheran church was cute too, we went inside that one and talked to the pastor, for my thirst had calmed down, but he was very young, and our unnatural beauty did not go unnoticed by him. Carlisle didn't seem to mind the idea of getting married in a Lutheran church, which I took note of, I knew next to nothing about different denominations, only that there seemed to be two different options, either Catholic or everything else. The next two churches we visited were made of old weatherboard, and although one of the two pastors was old and oblivious to our unnaturalness, Carlisle said "No" to both, "They're not pretty enough," he winked at me.

Having had no luck in Washburn we decided to drive out to Bayfield after our shopping in town.

First, we headed to sort out flowers. The florist was a large store towards the south of town. The exterior was painted sky blue, and the storefront windows were filled with beautiful bouquets, as well as darling arrangements. I loved the store before I even entered it. A bell tinkled when Edward opened the door, and the scent hit me like a wrecking ball. I'd never smelt so many flowers in one place with my vampire nose before, it was absolutely exquisite, and better yet, I could identify each and every one. The Earthy Chrysanthemums were strong and they made my nose feel as though it should tickle, the sweet lilies were soothing and reminded me of candy as a human, and the delicate roses had a scent that was faint compared to the rest. Stepping into that store of glorious smells reminded me what it felt like crawling into a warm bed after a long, cold day.

I inhaled deep breaths and couldn't help the smile that spread across my face from the heavenly warmth that the flowers brought.

"I should buy you flowers more often," Carlisle murmured in my ear, as his hand wrapped around my waist.

I giggled, and opened my mouth to reply, but he beat me to it.

"To grow, though, not to sit and look at."

"You know me too well," I grinned, his cheek pressed against mine, as he wrapped his other arm around my waist.

"What can I say?" He wondered, "After all, you are my most favourite thing to study."

He placed a chaste kiss upon my cheek before standing up straighter, and releasing me from his embrace.

I looked around the store as Edward began to walk towards a display with very many, very large bouquets. The shop seemed to be L-shaped; the right hand side was longer than the left. To our left was a large display of seasonal flowers. There were bouquets, bunches, bulbs and pots, all grouped together in the smallest side of the store. To our right was a long glass counter with a cash register upon it, and accessories inside of it. There were headdresses with small roses, and a flower very similar to baby's breath, as well as beautiful flower bracelets, but I would look at them later.  
The back half of the store, where Edward was wandering now, had a little sign near the end of the glass cabinet, saying _Weddings_. Carlisle gestured for me to follow our son. Edward stood in front of the display pressed up against the left wall, where the large bouquets were all one could see.

He gingerly reached out to touch one of the many Carnations that made up the big bunches, before he gave a dubious look to Carlisle, "Are you quite sure you'll manage to see her behind this?"

Carlisle pursed his lips and turned to me, "Truth be told, I don't think I will."

"Yes," Edward murmured, "I think these are better suited to those couples who do not want to see each other as they wed, not you two who can't take your eyes off of one another. This would just frustrate Carlisle."

I grinned bashfully as Carlisle nodded his agreement.

"All he would be able to see is the person walking you down the isle. Speaking of which, you haven't chosen whom yet. You can't walk down the isle alone, dear mother."

Surprised at his statement, I said nothing out loud. The truth was, I had no one to do such a thing, I thought he would have realised that. Besides, I didn't see why I couldn't walk it alone.

Edward chuckled, "Well, I suppose you _can_ walk it alone, I just thought you might like some company," he trailed off, looking back to the large pink flowers.

"That would be all well and good, Edward, but the only family I have is you and Carlisle. So it's not quite possible. Obviously Carlisle can't walk me down, because I'm walking down to him, and you'll be down there with him. Unless we're inviting the neighbour with the dog that your father has scared to death, then I can't possibly think of anyone else," I murmured, trying my best not to sound annoyed.

Edward flicked me a grin, "Well if you _want_ to do it alone, that's fine, I was merely going to mention that I have to walk down the isle at some point to stand next to Carlisle so I don't see why I can't do it by your side."

My eyes widened in surprise, and I was somehow at a loss for words.

Carlisle replied instead, "That is a lovely idea, Edward!"

I nodded, feeling on the verge of tears, and Edward shook his head indulgently, "I can't believe you made me ask."

Footsteps rounded the corner, and an elderly woman with white curls appeared, introducing herself as Alyssa. She asked a few questions about the wedding to help her aid us in our choice.

"We haven't found a church yet, but we're thinking of white and blue for the colours," Carlisle told her; I could see the excitement dancing behind his eyes.

"Ah, lovely, and the dress?" Her question was directed at me.

I smiled at her friendly green eyes and round cheeks, "Silk and lace."

"Pearls and orange blossoms?" She wondered.

I looked around the store, "I would love orange blossoms if they're available, I know it's not the right season…"

"We can get some in, our friends in Duluth can usually work miracles. Don't you worry, pretty darling, your day will be perfect."

As she smiled at me, rubbing her dirt-covered fingers on her green apron, I genuinely thought so too.

Edward looked between the flowers and Alyssa before pursing his lips, "Are these really supposed to be quite so big?"

She nodded, "Oh yes, it's all the rage now."

"Why? Are the brides so afraid they have to hide themselves?"

Alyssa laughed, "Young man, it is not a question of fear, but instead, a question of flare."

I grinned to myself and looked at the other displays, on the wall to my right were some very peculiar bouquets. Grabbing Carlisle by the hand, I led him over to the few flower arrangements that were white and light blue.

"These are better," he murmured, gingerly touching an orchid, "They look like waterfalls."

I grinned and nodded, "Do you know what they remind me of?"

He shook his head, with the familiar, and beautiful curiosity lighting up his eyes once again.

"The vines that tumble of the cliff face at our little cove."

He beamed, "They really do. I hadn't made that connection."

"I like these ones," I stood up on my tiptoes to smell one of the large white lilies.

"Would you like this style?" He wondered, and I nodded.

"I think so."

"Good," he chuckled to himself, "I'm glad you didn't have your heart set on carrying an entire flowerbed down the aisle," he gestured to the bouquets behind us and I giggled.

After choosing the bouquet style and flowers I wanted, we selected some for the church we hadn't picked yet, and I decided upon a beautiful floral headpiece.

Our next stop was the bookstore, where Carlisle made sure I was aware that any book I should desire would be mine. He watched intently, pretending to browse the medicine section, to see what books I chose to look at. I caught him looking, and he bashfully joined me, confessing that he always found choosing books for me so difficult.

"I love everything you buy for me," I assured him tenderly.

He shrugged, "I just want to make you as happy as possible."

I beamed up at him, and kissed his cheek, "And you succeed."

The smile stayed on his face for a long time after that, and he insisted upon buying me a particular architecture and design book that I couldn't put down. We next went to the library, and left with piles of books we couldn't see over. I loved the smell of the wood in the hardware's store, which we visited after the library. Carlisle and Edward bought a toolbox full of new tools to replace the prehistoric things they kept in the garage, and I spend a half hour in the paint section choosing the right colour for my walls. I could have spent so much longer in the furniture store, however. All the things I could do if I had more space! Carlisle's face lit up when he saw my eyes were filled with ideas and inspiration. He followed me around asking question upon question about what I liked, but I didn't mind. That was Carlisle. He was inquisitive to the extreme. I found it endearing.

Edward spent most of the time rolling his eyes at his father, but I could tell he thought it was sweet that Carlisle was so enraptured with my likes and dislikes.

We didn't buy anything, but we found very many catalogues that I endeavoured to spend the night scouring and choosing things from. It didn't take long for our shopping to be complete. So we soon returned to our church search.

It was not an overly long drive from Washburn to Bayfield, and there were decidedly more churches in the slightly bigger town. I absolutely adored Bayfield Holy Family Church, made of a deep red and rustic stone, which sat on a hill with gorgeous lake views but again, it was Catholic. It seemed to me that that particular denomination had the monopoly of stone churches. Carlisle looked slightly apologetic when we saw the Catholic sign but it truly didn't bother me.

"It's more important to get married in a church that means something to you, rather than one that's just pretty. It doesn't have to be stone, you know."

But he just smiled and shook his head, "We will find one that is pretty as well as perfect, I'll make sure of it."

"Even if we have to swim to London," Edward joked from the front seat, although I did not miss the slight tone of hope in his voice.

The Episcopal Church was a very cute, architecturally designed weatherboard building that would have been absolutely darling in the snow, and the pastor didn't seem to be bothered by our appearance an overt amount. This pleased Carlisle, but the interior was dark, and he could tell that I didn't _love_ it, so we kept searching. The Presbyterian Church was cuter than the Lutheran Church, but neither of them were what I was looking for. Perhaps I was being far too selective. On numerous occasions, I tried to tell Carlisle that it didn't matter and I was just being silly, but he'd always shake his head and assure me we'd find something perfect. I knew what I wanted, I knew where to find it… It just wasn't practical to get married in the crumbling old church we'd found in the forest. So I wanted something similar to that. The very most frustrating thing of all was that there _were_ beautiful, stone, protestant churches, and they were perfect, with old pastors and big ornate doors and so very, very close… in _Ashland. _The place I couldn't go.

We left Bayfield with my spirits lying on the ocean floor. My cheek rested upon Carlisle's shoulder, and I sighed.

"My darling, although you are positively adorable with that little pout on your face, I'd really rather you didn't worry," he murmured into my hair, "We'll find something."

"We should just go back to the Episcopal Church."

He shook his head, "It wasn't perfect."

"We're never going to find _perfect_ though," I groaned, to which he chuckled.

"I don't believe that for a second."

"Why?" I looked up and raised a challenging eyebrow at him.

He gave me a lopsided, boyish grin, "Because I found you."

I think if I were still human during my courtship with Carlisle, I'd be beet red all the time. Glad I had no blood to betray the odd self-consciousness I felt whenever he gave me a compliment I felt I didn't deserve, I smiled, and cuddled closer to his side.

Edward took the long route back to our house, through some small towns I'd never seen before. There were the odd churches along the way, some we'd stop to look at, but others were so run down, we just drove passed them. I considered my options on the way home, I truly didn't want to get married in a dark church; I loved the light too much for that. I wondered if there was any way we could get married in an Ashland church, but the risk was just too high. Edward's face was apologetic, but I kept on reminding myself – and him – that it wasn't the end of the world.

I was busy playing with Carlisle's gloved hands when Edward murmured, "Look there, what do you think of that one? Apostle Baptist Church."

I looked up at the church we were hurtling toward. It was large, made of white weatherboard, with a tower for a spire, and a grey gable roof. The windows were three times the height of me, but somehow, it looked quaint. It was absolutely nothing like the church my heart belonged to, but somehow I just knew it was perfect.

"It looks lovely," I murmured, turning to Carlisle trying to hide the hope in my eyes, "Baptist isn't Catholic, is it?"

He grinned and shook his head, "No. Baptist is protestant."

"So… it's fine?"

He nodded, "It's great."

I beamed in relief, and hoped to the God whose house I was about to enter, that the inside was just as beautiful as the out.

The church sat before a forest, and beside the sprawling Wisconsin fields I had come to love. The bright greens of the wet grass, and the deep oranges of the dying leaves, made the bright white of the perfect paint stand out strikingly, and the spire that sliced into the sky evolved into a grey cross at the perfect moment, so the white weatherboards could not be confused with the white cloud cover hiding the beautiful blue sky.

Edward pulled the car over, onto a wide gravel patch beside the grass, and hopped out. Carlisle – ever the gentleman – helped me out soon after, and together we headed toward the church.

The front doors, up three steps, were wide open, allowing the brisk autumn air to flow through peacefully. The walls were plastered white – no horrendous wallpaper here – and the floors were a deep brown wood, much like the floors of our old farmhouse. We entered through the bottom of the tower, and into a rectangular room, which ended in a small, closed wooden door. To the left was a large, towering archway of the same deep wood that comprised the floors, and opened into the nave. We slowly wandered through the archway, which was really a doorway for two large, open doors, and found ourselves, side by side, walking down the long central aisle. The pews to either side were wooden and ordinary, but beautiful in the streams of light that poured through the windows. I realised then that I'd truly been after a small stone cathedral, but the wooden church here suited us much better in its endearing cathedral-like way. It was a quintessential wedding chapel.

"Good afternoon," came a raspy whisper from the altar, "Welcome to Apostle Baptist Church."

I looked up to meet the old eyes belonging to the owner of the lone heartbeat that echoed through the long room. The man was short, with thin white hair and watery blue eyes, he was hunched over, and his face was covered in the remnants of life filled with smiles.

We walked forward slowly, without replying. The man's voice was far too quiet to be heard by normal ears from so far away. When we were very near the front, Carlisle cleared his throat to my side, in an attempt to seem human, "Good afternoon, and thank you. My name is Doctor Carlisle Cullen, this is my fiancée Miss Esme Platt and her cousin, Mr. Edward Masen."

I was surprised that Carlisle used my real name, after all, to everyone else I'd met, I was Anna Masen. I looked to Edward in confusion, but he merely flicked me a grin. There was something I had missed, but I was sure Carlisle would not be reckless.

"We're here looking for a church to be wed in, and a pastor to marry us."

We kept slowly approaching the old man where he stood beneath the towering windows at the back of the room, and in front of a mass of candles.

It was all rather overwhelmingly beautiful.

"Ah," murmured the pastor in his broken voice, "Congratulations, are you locals of the area?"

"We live in Ashland, I am a surgeon at St. Joseph's hospital."

The old man smiled widely, a look that suited him immensely, "An honourable profession, young man. Well done. Your father must be proud."

Carlisle grinned, "I like to think The Heavenly Father is, yes, but my Earthly father would have much preferred I follow his footsteps into the church."

"A pastor?" The old man was surprised, a surprise that was embossed with complete and utter delight.

Carlisle nodded, "He was. Unfortunately, the good Lord has taken him now, but he preached the Word until the Word was the last thing he said."

Carlisle rarely ever talked about his father, but I had realised by then, the reason why he was mentioning him now. Carlisle liked the church, and he liked the pastor. He wanted this old man to be the one to marry us, and in turn, so did I. Naturally; Carlisle wanted the pastor to truly know us so he could be confident that we were making the right decision. Had my mother chosen such a man to marry me at my first wedding, perhaps I never would have been married at all.

"Ah, would I know of him? If he's from Ashland I might."

Carlisle smiled but shook his head, "I'm from London, I moved here many years ago, but he remained."

"Ah," the pastor nodded, and then turned to me, "A pleasure it is to meet you, young Miss Platt."

I smiled my very best demure smile and took his outstretched hand, thankful for the gloves that hid most of my inhumanely cold hands. He clasped one of my small hands in both of his fragile, warm, pulsing… But he wasn't food.

"And a pleasure it is to meet you too."

He blushed, and I ignored the added fragrance to the air, despite how delicious it smelt, "You quite possibly could be the fourth finest lady that has ever walked through those doors, Miss Platt. After my wife, daughter and grand daughter, of course." The old man chuckled to himself in his wispy, broken sort of way.

I joined in with a quiet laugh of my own, "Thank you, you're very kind."

He turned to Edward then, "And Mr. Masen, a pleasure to meet you also."

Edward gave a small nod, "To you too, Pastor…?"

"Brian," he smiled, "Pastor Brian. I must say, I'm very glad you've come to see if our little church is suited to your union, but all the way from Ashland! May I enquire as to why?"

Edward grinned, "We've been to look at all of the churches in Ashland, Washburn, and Bayfield, but chosen not one."

The pastor looked surprised, and Edward grinned down at me. I bit the inside of my lip self-consciously, but smiled at the old man, "None of them fit quite right. But your church…" I gazed around at the high-beamed ceilings, marvelling at the contrast between the white paint and the rich wood, "Your church is beautiful. It has a lovely feeling about it," I looked back to him, smiling, "It feels right."

His grin grew wider, "Then young Miss Platt, the Lord has brought you to the right place."

I nodded, "I think He has."

I looked up to Carlisle, who was beaming down at me with the liquid love in his eyes that I could never understand why he would give to me, of all people, but I was glad to take it none-the-less. And I drank it down like a man drinking water after spending an eternity in the desert, because I would not _be_ without it.

Reflexively, we reached out for each other's hands, grins widening when we found them. We were distracted by a small laugh; we turned to Pastor Brian who was smiling at the both of us, almost adoringly.

"I can definitely see what brought you both here," he grinned, before he proceeded to ask us a few questions about ourselves individually and as a couple.

When he turned to question Edward, Carlisle leant down and placed a kiss on my head.

"So, what do you think?" He murmured in my ear.

"I like it," I murmured, "Outside, it's the farm where I grew up, the church where you grew up, and the forest that we shall enter together. How about you?"

He grinned, "I love it."

"So, if he says yes, should we get married here?" I asked excitedly.

He nodded, "I'd like to, would you?"

I nodded enthusiastically, trying very hard to refrain from jumping up and down with excitement, "Yes!"

He chuckled and placed another sweet kiss on my head. Pastor Brian turned back to us then, smiling.

"It is not hard to see the Lord's love between the two of you, and I would be honoured to join you in Holy matrimony, if that is what you both so desire."

"We would love for you to ordain our marriage," Carlisle beamed, "Thank you."

The old man grinned back, "Brilliant. Now when were you planning the service for?"

"December third," Carlisle could barely hide the excitement in his tone, although it would have only been apparent to one of our own kind, "It's a Saturday."

He nodded, "I think that can be arranged. For weddings, my wife and daughter usually decorate the church the morning of the ceremony, if the chosen garlands could be delivered before December second, it would be greatly appreciated."

Carlisle nodded, "We can do that."

The pastor talked to Carlisle for a short time, but I stopped paying attention. Instead I looked around the room, transfixed by the windows behind the alter, and the way that light flooded in. The streams of cloudy sunlight were too beautiful to be real, in this quaint house of God. The ceiling was so high, giving the illusion of space in the small church, but the front pews were so far away from the alter, I wondered how any of the congregation could hear the pastor's quiet raspy voice during the service.

I was examining the display of candles in front of the tall windows when Edward's unusually excited tone broke me from my reverie, "Oh! I am able to do that if you would like?"

Pastor Brian's face was surprised, "Are you really?"

Edward nodded enthusiastically, "I tune my own piano by myself, I learned how when I was very young."

The old man was filled with glee, "Well then, please, it would be incredibly helpful. When are you available to do it?"

"I can do it now if you would like? We're not busy," he looked to Carlisle for reassurance.

The beautiful blonde doctor by my side smiled, "Please, go ahead."

Pastor Brian looked as though Christmas had come early as he led Edward over to the piano to our left.

Carlisle looked down at me, and grinned, before he led me to the pews, where we sat down and I watched as Edward began to tune the piano. Carlisle leaned forward beside me, resting his folded hands against the back of the pew in front, and closed his eyes.

I listened to Edward and Pastor Brian's conversation, leaving Carlisle and his Lord in peace for a while.

"My wife likes to play every Sunday for our service, but for the past few weeks it's sounded awfully terrible. It's so difficult to come by a piano tuner anywhere, even in Ashland! You're on to a lucrative thing, young man! I'm afraid we can't offer much, but I can pay you –"

Edward cut him off, "Please Pastor Brian, I need no payment for this, but thank you for offering."

"Are you quite sure, son?"

"Completely. In fact, if you'd like, I could teach you or your wife how to do it, so in future you won't find yourself in such a predicament?"

The old man beamed with glee, "Well the Lord has blessed me today! Thank you, son! I shall just go to fetch them. What a kind and giving soul you possess."

He ducked out a side door to the right that I hadn't noticed before, and I smiled proudly up at my son. _This is very lovely of you to do Edward._

I watched out the corner of my eye, as Carlisle opened one of his, and grinned at the boy with bronze hair.

Edward let out a self-conscious laugh, and dropped his eyes to the floor, "Thank you," he mumbled.

_Don't mumble Edward,_ I chided, and he began to laugh.

Pastor Brian soon returned with both his wife and young granddaughter, who would have been around Edward's age. The young girl's heart audibly sped up when she caught sight of the handsome boy by the piano, but she soon came to find that he was all business. This didn't stop her from flirting however, in a very adorable manner.

I heard Carlisle chuckle beside me at her clumsy flirtatious manner, so we shared a knowing smile.

"What was the church you grew up in like?" I wondered.

He grinned and described it to me as Edward tinkered with the piano. In the time it took for our son to finish making the instrument sound beautiful once more, Carlisle had described in great detail, the church, the city, and the world he grew up in. Quietly of course, we couldn't have the Pastor hearing about the good doctor's childhood in the 17th century. He'd just finished detailing the sound of church bells on Sundays when Edward finished tuning the instrument and Pastor Brian's wife began to beg him to play them a song. Edward gracefully agreed, and thankfully he chose a pleasant piece to play, not one of the beautifully disastrous moody songs he'd been favouring us with, at home as of late. He received an enthusiastic round of applause from everyone in the room, and even gave us all a little bow.

"Oh, how incredible it would be to succeed at playing an instrument as finely as you do, Mr. Masen," Pastor Brain's granddaughter sighed wistfully.

"Well, Poppy, I'm sure if we asked Mr. Masen very, very kindly, he may consider giving us both a few lessons," the Pastor's wife turned to Edward, "We'd pay you, of course."

Edward shook his head, "No need at all, it would be pleasure to teach you both, and the good Pastor too, if he should so desire," he flashed the old man his winning smile.

Pastor Brian blushed and laughed, "Well, it couldn't hurt to pick up a few songs, I suppose."

"What is a suitable time and day for you?" Edward wondered, as I myself, wondered why he was doing this.

After the Pastor's family had chosen a time and date for their lessons with Edward, we thanked them and moved to leave.

Before I could ask Edward why he offered his assistance with their musical knowledge, he answered, "I know what you're both wondering, and my answer is that I too have to be in attendance at your wedding, so I would greatly like the music to be pleasurable to my selective ears, and by acting as the instructor to the pianist – the Pastor's wife is who'll be playing, by the way – I get to influence the musical choices for the occasion. There will be no horrendous noises being made on your special day. I am certain of it, besides, why is it such a stretch that I'm offering to do something nice? I have a 'a kind and giving soul', remember?" He flicked a teasing glance at his father, as he opened the driver's door and hopped in.

"Don't tease Pastor Brian, Edward. He's a lovely man, who is doing us a lovely favour, and I do truly believe you have a kind and giving soul."

Edward sighed, "Moot point, let's move on."

The rest of the drive back to our Ashland home was rather quiet, I sat with my head resting on Carlisle's shoulder and he wrapped his arm around mine. I was looking forward to being home again.

When we pulled into the garage, Edward looked at our purchases from the day, "Do you need any help with this? I'd love to stretch my legs and run for a while before we all head out to hunt."

Carlisle nodded, "You go, there's not much to carry inside."

Edward grinned and moved to leave, but before he could, I wrapped him in a tight hug, "Thank you for all your help today, Edward. I appreciate it, truly."

He hugged me tightly, and then murmured, "You're more than welcome, I enjoyed it," before he placed a kiss on the top of my head and ran off into the forest. The trees at the fringes swallowed his lanky silhouette, and wayward bronze hair.

I turned back to Carlisle, who was leaning on the back of the car, smirking at me.

I raised an eyebrow, "Yes?"

He pretended to look innocent, "Hmmm?"

"What is that face for?"

"What face? This is the face I was born with…"

I laughed and shook my head adoringly. He opened his arms and his expression turned hopeful, "Does the doctor who isn't funny get a hug like his son did?"

I smirked and moved over to him, "The doctor who makes me laugh gets more than just a hug if he wants it," I whispered, tilting my chin up for a kiss.

He chuckled freely and pulled me closer, I wrapped my arms around his neck as his lips met mine. We stayed like that for a long moment, until Carlisle pulled away, and wrapped me in a loving embrace.

"How would you like to spend the afternoon, my love?"

I considered asking if he had another adventure up his sleeve, but decided that I had an activity of my own.

"Edward and I sanded back the wallpaper in my room, and I think it will be all right to paint over, we could start that, if you'd like?"

He grinned and nodded, so we lifted the paint we purchased in Washburn, out of the car, and carried it up to my bedroom.

"Remind me to get the tools out of the back seat before I leave for work," Carlisle murmured as though it was possible for him to forget.

I merely smiled and nodded, retrieving the paintbrushes and rollers that I had stored away.

"I'd give you the job of cutting in, with your steady surgeons hands, but vampires don't shake, so we can both cut in," I laughed and myself, and he joined in, grabbing a paintbrush and climbing up the step ladder to reach the cornicing. I wandered over to the corner of the room, and carefully began to paint.

Carlisle was quiet as he painted. I would have called him thoughtful, but he appeared to be more… hesitant.

"Carlisle?" I murmured, his head whipped around, and a large smile appeared upon his face.

"Love?"

"What's on your mind?" I wondered.

He shook his head too quickly, which worried me.

I sighed but nodded, and returned to my wall, "If you're sure."

There was silence for a moment while we focuses on our work, but soon he relented with a sigh.

"It's only that, well, I worry that this whole wedding business might… unearth some unpleasant memories for you, and I don't want you to be unhappy."

I smiled, putting down my brush and walking to the middle of the room. I extended my hand in invitation to join me, so he too placed his paintbrush down and walked to the room's center. His large hands slotted perfectly into mine and I sat down on the floor, bringing him with me.

"Let's call this honesty hour, ask any question you've been dying to ask, and I'll do the same. How does that sound?"

He grinned, "That sounds fair."

Laughing, I began to toy with his hands, "All right, I'll answer your question first. It's hard for my mind not to compare the two times I've done this but truthfully there are no meaningful similarities. My mother planned my first wedding, she chose everything, I just said yes. I didn't care, I didn't want a perfect wedding, I wanted a perfect husband, and he was nothing like what I imagined. He was nothing like _you. _But now I have you, so I want to try and make everything else as near perfect as the man that I'm marrying. This isn't hard for me to do because I'm in love with you."

He beamed back at me, and brought my hands up to his mouth, "May I ask a question?" He wondered.

"That's what you're supposed to do," I teased.

His eyes were mischievous, "Just how many times have you imagined marrying me?"

I laughed, "Oh, now you're just taking advantage of honesty hour."

"That's what it's for," he winked.

Sighing, I relented, "Far too many times to count. So many days, and so many nights the only thing that kept me going was the thought that people like you – and you in particular – existed. I never understood why I couldn't forget you and it's never made sense to my mind that believed in no God, no fate, and no greater plan. So it reinforces what I said at our little church, you are the only proof I've ever seen of a God."

"You think too much of me," he sighed.

"The fatal flaw of love, methinks." I winked, making him chuckle.

"More questions?" I wondered.

"Thousands, but you haven't asked me one yet."

I considered my question carefully, "Well, you know my favourite time of day is the sunrise, so what is yours?"

He looked out the window thoughtfully, "I like all times of the day, but probably sunrise like you do, and sunset. What's your biggest fear?"

"Aside from losing you and Edward? One day staring into the eyes of the truth, and realising I'm looking at a monster."

He cocked his head to the side, "You'll have to explain that one to me. Who is the monster, you or the truth?"

"The truth, but then inadvertently, me."

His brow furrowed in confusion as he pondered my words.

"Perhaps I can't explain well enough," I murmured, "Maybe it will have to remain a mystery."

He laughed and nodded, "I think I have a loose understanding. You adore being mysterious, don't you?"

"Some mysteries are beautiful."

"Oh, I know. You are a mystery to me," he kissed my nose, "And you're also the most beautiful thing I have ever seen."

I raised an eyebrow, "Have you never seen another female vampire before?" I teased, knowing he had.

"I have, but I've never seen another _you_ before."

I pursed my lips, trying to hide my smile, but I knew my eyes would have betrayed my delight.

"I'll never be able to take your flattery without being the least bit bashful," I laughed, and he joined in.

"I'll keep helping you try."

I shook my head, grinning, "All right, what's _your_ biggest fear?"

"Losing you," he stated simply.

"Your second biggest fear, then?"

He took a deep breath, and pursed his lips, "Not being enough."

I cocked my head to the side in confusion, "Enough for?"

"To keep you and Edward here. Sometimes I come home from work convinced its all an illusion, and that you're not real, and I'm still alone."

The loneliness in his voice broke my heart in beautiful fractures, "I'm real. I promise." I whispered.

His face broke out into a grin, "I'm starting to think that might be true."

"It's a good thing we have forever, then."

I watched the sunlight dance in his eyes as he freed his hands from my grasp, and wrapped them around my waist, pulling me in closer in the gentle manner only he possessed. Our honesty hour effortlessly melted into shared kisses on my bedroom floor, covered in paint, and it was moments like those that would last forever, with only three words floating in the air, "Twenty-nine days."

* * *

_A.N. Hi again! I just wanted this chapter to make sure we chose a church, so it's not filled with very many questions or drama ;) For those of you who want drama, I've planned out the entirety of this story, so watch out for the chapters 58 - 62, which will be as dramatic as it gets. Now, Faith &amp; Love will end around chapter 70, but I'm planning to set up and write a sequel (or a few) to it for those of you who'd like to read more. _

_There is no Apostle Baptist church in Mason, WI, however, it was loosely based upon a little church called Bethany Baptist church, which does exist in Mason, WI, about half an hour drive out of Ashland. Forgive me if I missed any misspellings of Pastor Brian's name, one too many times he got called Pastor Brain._

_Next chapter is a little more fun. __Edward &amp; Carlisle also go on a little mission.__ The chapter deals with a particularly pushy Ashland resident who is very insulted about not being invited to the wedding and won't take no for an answer. We'll also get some answers regarding Esme's grandparents, and why exactly these farmers were a subject of gossip, and managed to get their hands on expensive jewellery. _

_Finally, I've changed my profile, and got rid of all the old photos up there and put new ones up, for any of you who like having pictures to support what you're imagining. There is the real hospital that Carlisle would have worked at in 1921, as well as the real church in Mason, and a similar one to the church I imagined, also an example of a bouquet like Esme's. There is also the Cullen's Ashland home.  
Fanfiction profile links don't work for me, not on my profile, nor any one else's. So I hope they work for you, if not, it must be a FanFiction glitch happening. Oh no!_

_Hope you all enjoyed! P.S. Over the next few days, I might re-edit this chapter :)_


	42. Little Details

_Chapter Forty-Two: Little Details_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, November 1921_

_Carlisle_

I turned the faucet gingerly, and tilted my head up to the sky. Cold water spurted out of the showerhead, quickly heating up. As I let the warm water run over my skin, I thought about the young boy whose leg we'd just amputated. He'd got stuck underneath an overturned tractor on his father's farm. Initially he'd refused treatment. He was eighteen, above the legal age to make decisions for himself, and he seemed of very sound mind. Ethically, I was bound to respect his wishes and let him die. However, one of the first on scene medics convinced him that he would survive the surgery and be able to live a relatively normal life with only one leg. After some rapid persuasion, the boy was convinced, and his leg was removed. I sighed and grabbed the generic hospital hair wash, before rubbing it through my hair. I grinned as I massaged my scalp, the water was still hot, Esme would love a shower. She was forever grumbling about her body temperature cooling the bathwater too quickly. Mind you, that was only _after_ my teasing her about the short time she spent in the bathroom.

Heavy human footsteps entered the washroom, where the shower cubicles were located. The feet entered the cubical beside mine.

"Cullen?" A familiar voice queried.

"Yes?" I let out a laugh; I was not accustomed to conversing while showering.

"I thought so, you always wear the same cologne. You have _got_ to tell me where you get that stuff. My wife would go _mad_ over it." Gregson laughed, as the shower next to me turned on.

"And if I told you it was natural?" I laughed as well, I knew he wouldn't believe me despite it being true.

"I'd not believe you for a second," Gregson chuckled again, he had a naturally charismatic personality, he was very easy to get along with. He took a deep breath, "Now I have a bone to pick with you, Cullen."

I inwardly groaned, "Yes?"

"Somebody told me that not only did you have a sweetheart that I was unaware of, but apparently you are now _engaged_ to be married."

I scrubbed the hair wash out of my hair as I deliberated how to answer, "Is that so?" I cringed at my reply.

"So you'll not deny it?"

I sighed, "No. I'll not deny it."

"Then I am miffed!" He exclaimed before he chuckled to himself, I could hear his hair wash bottle opening as I scrubbed my arms with soap. "Where the hell is my invite, Cullen?"

I pursed my lips, "It's just going to be a small affair."

He heaved a sigh, "Would you say we're friends?"

He _was_ the closest thing to a friend that I allowed myself. "Yes," I replied hesitantly.

"Did you know my wife just so happens to be very good with the photographs?"

I raised an eyebrow, wondering where he was going with his new topic of conversation, "No, I don't think you've ever mentioned that."

"That's because every time we invite you out, you turn us down."

"I'm more of the stay at home type," I murmured as I turned the water off, and reached for my towel.

"And your fiancée?" He pried.

"She's much the same, and quite sickly."

"Will your wedding happen at your house then? If that's the case, I'm more than able to overcome the creepy feeling that place gives me."

I sighed, wrapping the towel around my waist as I stepped out into the common changing area to dress, "No. We'll be marrying in a church."

"And I still have no invite?" He let out a huff as I dressed, "What did I ever do to deserve being snubbed by you?"

"Nothing," I chuckled.

"Is that an invite, then?" He wondered enthusiastically as he scrubbed the soap against his fragile flesh and I dried my hair.

"You know if I invite you, I'll somehow end up inviting the nurses too."

"I'll keep it hush, hush, and my wife will too. The nurses have never liked her anyway. Your new wife will undoubtedly experience the same thing. Come on Cullen," he turned the shower off, "Help a friend out. My wife struggles to make good friends, and your wife-to-be is new in town, they can have tea parties and talk about how to exact revenge on Mable and Ruby."

I laughed as he reached for his towel, before joining me in the changing area.

"My wife will be so happy, I'll never sleep on the couch again," he looked to me hopefully.

I ran my hands through my hair uncomfortably, feeling myself giving in, "How did you find out about my wedding anyway?" I wondered, "None of the staff should know."

He beamed impishly at me, "The boss is my father-in-law."

Surprise had my eyebrows rocket north to my hairline, "Truly?"

He nodded, "Now you really have to say yes. You don't want to upset the boss' daughter."

I nearly groaned, "I'll talk to my fiancée," I gathered my things and tried to escape, but his beaming face stopped me.

"Anna Masen, isn't it?" He wondered.

My lips pursed together in a solid line, this was getting harder and harder. If Esme said yes to Gregson and his wife attending our wedding, how could I be sure he wouldn't recognize her as a dead schoolteacher? And how would I explain my marrying Esme Platt, instead of one Anna Masen?

Gritting my teeth momentarily, I replied smoothly, "Yes."

"All right, you run it passed Miss Masen, and I won't mention a thing to my wife until you say yes," he grinned.

Sighing once more, I agreed and quickly bode him farewell before he could convince me to do other things I desperately didn't want to do.

I checked my watch as I made my way to my office to collect paperwork; glad it was time for my shift to end. I was slightly annoyed that my asking for time off work was not kept between my superior and I, but it wasn't in my nature to allow things to irk me for a long amount of time. I quickly grabbed my paperwork from the small office that I was allowed to call my own, and dashed downstairs, out of the hospital before anyone else could catch me. I sent my usual thanks to the good Lord in Heaven above, before I drove out of the car park. It was early in the morning, and the sun was showing no signs of rising anytime soon. As I drove the empty back streets out of the small town to our secluded farmhouse, my mind became focused on the small grey box that sat hidden beneath my paperwork on the passenger side of the car.

I had visited the Fortendue's Ashland dress shop on my way into work the previous evening, to see how the dress was coming along. November had flown passed quickly, and with only four days remaining of the month, Esme would be my wife in precisely a week. It gave me butterflies whenever I thought about it, but I could never rid my face of the goofy smile. _One week._ This meant she needed her dress to be ready very soon, which Mrs. Fortendue assured me it would be. We scheduled a final fitting at their Washburn premises on Monday. I was so proud of how she'd been managing her thirst during these fittings, and she had the Fortendue women all wrapped around her dainty little finger, even Mary, who now understood why I was marrying Esme, and it _wasn't_ because she was sick. I was not surprised that the women adored Esme, for she had an unbelievably caring heart and a remarkably open mind. The Fortendue girls had taken to asking her for all sorts of advice, and I was surprised by how much I could learn about Esme through others. Like how she hated the smell of roasted carrots, had always preferred lime to lemon, and never ran out of witty one-liners. In the past few weeks I'd also discovered that I had been wrong about a few things I'd once thought of her. I'd once mistaken her caring heart and fierce loyalty as a universal love of everything, but I realised only last week that she loved deeply, extremely deeply, but not nearly widely as I had first deduced.

In fact, she reminded me greatly of a biological law I helped establish back in 1871, with Henry Pickering Bowditch at Harvard. We called it the 'all-or-none' law, meaning, to initiate a signal within the body, a stimulus must reach a threshold. If the stimulus succeeds an impulse will fire, if it does not succeed, the impulse will not fire. There are only two possible states for the impulse: there, or not there; all, or nothing.  
I'd found that was also true of Esme. She had such an unparalleled passion for things she loved, or things she despised, but if something did not trigger a response in her, she was absolutely indifferent to the matter. She loved things, but never liked them. She hated things, but never disliked them. There was no in-between for her. She could feign interest, of course, but I was beginning to tell when she was truly engrossed, and when she was not. When Edward and I discussed Darwinian Evolution her disinterest was so blatant, it was almost comical. She was the same when it came to conversation, she would talk for hours on end, or she would be silent for them. If she were a chemical state, then she was either a solid or a gas, there was no liquid. She invested everything, or nothing at all, and that made her completely fascinating to me, even more so with every day that passed. The Fortendue women helped me to realize this too, for Esme was completely indifferent to the discussion of synthetic pantyhose versus silk pantyhose, but the moment Hazel mentioned corsets, her mouth opened and her fierceness arrived. I grinned to myself at the memory. You always knew where you stood with my Esme. This was probably another reason for why the girls adored her so.

They were very focused on ensuring that Esme's day was perfect, so much so that Mrs. Fortendue was in a complete fluster when she chased me out of her store that evening shouting, "Pearls! Pearls! Don't forget the pearls!"

I had chuckled and assured her that I wouldn't before asking her to breathe so I wouldn't be seeing her in the emergency room in my shift later on. With the spare time before my shift, I had ducked into the jewelers in Ashland and purchased the most beautiful, long string of pearls that I could find. They also happened to be the most expensive. The way that the store clerk looked at me when I reached into my wallet, one would think he expected me to rip off my arm and leg in payment, instead of handing over the few notes that he required, but I did not care for the cost. My wife would have the best of everything.

So the pearls sat beside me in their grey box, as I turned off Holmes Road, and onto our gravel driveway. I sped down the path in between the thick trees and grinned when our scary little house emerged. Although the exterior was frightful at best, Esme had turned the interior into a beautiful place of love and comfort, just by being there.

I could heard Edward at the piano again, his song effortlessly melted from a lovely and complex Sibelius composition to the beautifully simple Debussy piece I particularly favoured. I had never truly cared for the Baroque style of music from my human life, but I did greatly enjoy the Romantic and Impressionist ears of the current and previous centuries.

I mentally greeted Edward in reply as I parked the car in the garage, grabbed the pearls and paperwork from the front seat and then dashed to the house.

Edward met me at the back door, where he stood in the only porch light that the house had.

"Good night?" He wondered as I climbed the steps and shrugged. I mentally relayed conversation with Gregson, and to my immense surprise, he grinned.

"I have an idea, but it means the two of us going back to the hospital this morning."

I raised an eyebrow, _You can manage that?_

He nodded, "You believe in me, don't you?"

I clapped him on the shoulder and walked into the kitchen, "I believe in you completely."

He followed me in and gave me a shrug, "Then I'd better start doing the same. There's something else too," he murmured, grinning slightly at the pride in my thoughts, "I have a surprise for Esme."

I heard a delicate _humph_ from upstairs and beamed, "That sounds intriguing, but first I have a surprise of my own."

Edwards eyes fell on the box, and with a grin he nodded his approval, "Obviously, she's upstairs. She has a surprise of her own for you, a very _impressive_ surprise." His grin widened and I had to refrain from running upstairs.

I left my paperwork on the kitchen table and made my way upstairs brimming with curiosity. I followed her scent towards her room. Her open door had light spilling out of it, illuminating parts of the dark hallway with the unmistakable orange hue of firelight. I could smell the burning wood, and hear the crackling of her most recent discovery. I walked to it in an almost transfixed state, mesmerized by the warmth I didn't need, but coveted.

Slowly, but surely, I reached her doorway, and instead of stopping there like I had planned and always did, surprise drew me forward. A vampire's mind has so much more space than a humans, which allows us to focus on many different things at once, yet I could not think of anything other than what I could see as I slowly walked into Esme's room. Was I still in the same house?

The four-poster bed beside me was draped with a beautiful lightweight white material that – coupled with the thick bedspread and six pillows – gave it the most luxurious feel. Yet, the frame was still dark mahogany, and the posts were still thin and ornately shaped. It was definitely the same bed, but so much better.

In the far left corner of the room was a large curved dresser with an attached mirror on the left wall, which reflected the rich green potted plant sitting on the opposite side of the room from it, and between the two walls, directly opposite from the bed, was the window, which appeared large all of a sudden, but truly could not have changed size. It was the drapery that made the difference. No longer were the curtains thick, dusty, pink and ripped, they were now a flowing material similar in nature to the fabric cascading down the four posters of the plush bed. The most beautiful thing in the room sat right in the middle of it all, near the foot of the bed and to the right of the perfectly restored fireplace with a roaring fire and atop a comfortable looking carpet, in all her beautiful glory, with a book perched on her folded legs and her caramel curls tied together tumbling down her shoulder. Her wide golden eyes looked up to me curiously, and a faint blush – the tell tale sign of her recent hunt – coloured her dimpled cheeks.

"Esme," I murmured, coming to join her on the rug, "This is just… beautiful."

Gone were the yellow and pink mismatched wallpaper, and the pink bedding, it was all replaced with whites and very light browns.

She beamed, "I'm glad you like it. You see very transfixed," she giggled.

I nodded, "I am, it's amazing. You've done an incredible job. It's so warm and… it feels like a home."

Her beautiful smile grew bigger, revealing two rows of perfect pearly whites. She reached out for my hands, which I gladly surrendered after placing down the pearls.

"I'm struggling to believe it's the same room," I murmured looking around once more.

She giggled and pointed to the wall behind me, "See those tiny paint dots there? That's where you flicked me with the brush," she giggled.

The slight imperfection made me grin, "Yes, I suppose it is."

When I turned back to face her, I ducked my head down for a kiss, which she granted me with a large smile.

"I brought you something," I murmured, after I pulled away, reaching for the pears, "I hope they can act as somewhat of an apology too, for Edward and I ducking out soon."

Her head lolled to the side and she grinned at me lovingly, "You don't need to apologise."

I just grinned and held out the grey box, which she shyly accepted with a murmured thank you. I watched her face intently as she lifted the grey lid. She looked up at me and laughed, before she pulled it up. Her eyes widened when she saw the long string of pearls nestled in the satin lining of the box. She stared at them for a short time, and then gingerly lifted a finger up to touch them.

Her head shot back up to look at me, "I…" she murmured, but then shook her head, and placed the box down. She shuffled forward, and wrapped her arms around my neck, burrowing her head into my shoulder, "Thank you," she whispered.

I chuckled lightly, wrapping my arms around her small body, "You're very welcome."

"They're so beautiful," she murmured, "I can't believe you bought them for me."

My brow furrowed, "Why not?" I wondered.

She pulled back slightly, and she shrugged, "It was just… a surprise. I'm used to being able to guess that you're about to buy something for me, and it's usually something I need anyway, but this… this is a surprise. Truly."

Her eyes were swimming with some kind of dazed light, a dazed light that was extremely addictive. My heart flew with pride and I realized that I _enjoyed_ giving her surprises.

I reached over to brush her cheekbone with my hand, "I rather like surprising you."

She giggled, "I rather like being surprised."

"Good," I beamed, "Because Mrs. Cullen will be spoilt with surprises."

She shook her head tenderly and looked at me with awe, "Whatever did I do to deserve you doting on me?"

I gave her a cheeky shrug, before placing a kiss on her cheek, "You were simply yourself, my love."

She smiled lovingly, and made her way back into my arms. We stayed like that for a short time, before she pulled away to look up at me, "So what has you going out this morning?" she wondered curiously.

I pursed my lips, "One of my colleagues found out about our wedding, he's very nearly begging to come. His wife is the daughter of my superior at work, but I don't want to run the risk of him recognizing you. I can always tell him a later date and then say we had to move it forward because of your illness, or something of that nature. What do you think?"

"I don't mind him coming, if he doesn't recognize me. What is his name?"

"Gregson, Doctor Gregson."

She pursed her lips in thought, but shook her head, "It doesn't ring any bells, I don't _think _I met him."

I grinned, "Good. Edward and I will just double check though."

She nodded, "That's a smart idea. What will you do? Will you take one of your photos of me and drop it on the floor for him to pick up, so Edward can read his mind and see if he remembers me?"

Marveling at her idea, I replied in awe, "I wasn't sure what we'd do actually, but that sounds like a great idea."

"Don't take the one with the silly smile though," she laughed uncomfortably. For some strange reason, she didn't particularly favour my most treasured photo of her.

"And," Edward's voice came from the doorway; "I have a surprise for you that needs picking up. So we'll get that while we're out."

Esme eyed him suspiciously, "At this time of the morning?"

He chuckled mischievously, "Yes, and we'd better get going before the sun rises and Gregson finishes his shift."

I nodded, and placed a kiss atop Esme's head, "I'll see you soon, my love."

She grinned toying with the long string of pearls, "Stay safe, and don't get yourselves into too much trouble. The people of Ashland think I'm dead, so I won't be able to visit you in prison if you do."

Edward and I retreated out of the room laughing. After changing clothes, and grabbing a photograph of Esme, we climbed in the car and set off.

When we were out of Esme's hearing range I turned to Edward who was picking something up off the floor of the car, _So what is this surprise you've been talking about?_

"Esme has been remembering the home she lived in while she was human here in Ashland. In particular, she keeps revisiting the memory of hiding a box beneath a loose floorboard. She can't remember what was in the box, but she feels as though it was something special. I'd like to go and see if it's still there, so we can retrieve it and give it to her, if it's not, I have a back-up surprise, which I was going to give her as a wedding present, but I can sacrifice for this," he flicked me a grin, "What do you think?"

I grinned proudly back at my son, "I think it's a lovely idea, Edward. Would you like to go there first?"

"We'd probably better go to the hospital," he checked his watch, "Doctor Gregson will be leaving soon."

Nodding, I floored the gas pedal and the car shot forward, Edward laughed, "Now this is how I like to drive."

I had to admit, the speed was nice.

We arrived at the hospital not long after, and as I parked I looked to Edward, "He's not in surgery, is he?"

Edward shook his head; "He's trying to think of a way to get down the ER corridor without being noticed. Mable is working there."

I chuckled, "She seems to have moved her affections onto him now I'm off limits."

Edward groaned, "Her head is not a place I want to be."

I opened the door and flicked him an impish grin, "I'll bet my hat that Ruby's is worse."

He closed his eyes and shook his head, slamming the door, "I'm not even thinking about that."

I couldn't help but grin at my son as he led the way into the hospital.

We rounded a few corners and walked down a few corridors before he murmured, "Do you have the photograph ready? He's just around the corner."

I discreetly pulled the picture out of my pocket and hid it in my hands. We rounded the corner and Gregson, who was loitering behind a wall that blocked him from Mable's view, looked up in surprise.

"Cullen!" He murmured, "What are you doing back here? Mr. Masen," he nodded at Edward.

"I forgot some paperwork," I murmured in reply.

He turned to Edward, "You're up early, Mr. Masen."

Edward shrugged, "Miss. Masen's been up all night with a terrible cough, she's finally got some sleep, but I'm afraid I won't be able to. The cool air is good to clear my head, it will keep me awake for a while longer."

Gregson looked alarmed, "Is she quite all right left alone?"

"She's a deep sleeper, she'll make it through the night, I'm sure," Edward replied smoothly.

"But we'd better not be out longer than necessary," I interjected, and Gregson nodded.

"I say; what _are_ you doing behind here, Gregson?" I wondered.

He blushed a little, "Mable has been a nightmare lately, I'm uh… hiding."

Edward let out a laugh, "You poor man," he murmured.

Gregson sighed, and I clapped him on the shoulder, skilfully dropping the picture of Esme and moving to leave, "I'll see you tomorrow, Doctor Gregson, and good luck avoiding Mable."

He sighed and nodded. We began to walk away when he called us back, "Cullen!"

I turned around, to see him gazing at the photo with a surprised glint in his eye. He looked up slowly, and held the photo out. "Is this… is this your fiancée?"

I flicked a glance to Edward, who was smiling, and then I nodded to Gregson, "Yes, that's Anna."

His eyes bulged, "Wow, Cullen. She's very beautiful."

I reached out for the photo, "Thank you. Oh, I meant to tell you, Saturday the 3rd, Apostle Baptist Church in Mason, the service starts at one."

His face broke out into an ear-splitting grin, "Cullen, you lifesaver. Thank you! My wife will be overjoyed!"

Our conversation may have lasted longer if it wasn't for the surprised voice that called out from behind us, "Oh! Doctor Gregson! I've been looking for you," Mable rushed down the hall toward us, blushing and greeting Edward and I on her way.

We turned to leave before she reached us, Gregson groaned, "I blame you, Cullen."

Snickering to ourselves, Edward and I made our escape.

"Those nurses really are terrible," Edward murmured.

I sighed, "They seem to believe that doctors and nurses make sense together."

The bronze-haired boy rolled his eyes, "Oh, definitely," sarcasm saturated his speech, "Because it's not as though the schedules would conflict at all."

I chuckled quietly all the way back to the car, once we were safely in I turned to my son, "He didn't recognize her at all?"

He shook his head, "Not at all."

"Good," I smiled a small smile, "Now, do you know where Esme used to live?"

"Not completely," he sighed, "And we need to get there before sunrise."

We both looked to the rapidly lightening sky and groaned, "Then I guess we'd better go."

I sped around the sleepy suburban streets of Ashland with Edward keeping a special ear out for the local night patrol.

"I have a blurry idea of what the exterior looks like, but I'm not sure _where_ it is. I'd know it if I saw it," Edward murmured distractedly, with his eyes trained on the windscreen.

"What does it look like?" I wondered, _Two pairs of eyes are better than one._

"There are about 20 red brick buildings with wooden porches, and daises growing in the front garden, but they'll be dead by now. There's a sign on the fence saying _Willows Lodge for War Widows_. Have you heard of it?"

I shook my head.

"Hers was number 13B, when we find the place… There!" Edward pointed to a group of small red brick buildings at the end of the road in one of Ashland's most secluded suburbs.

"No wonder we never saw her in town, she lived quite far out," he murmured as I parked the car around the corner.

"Also, I don't think she ventured into town much, she only remembers teaching and sleeping, no shopping," I told him as we got out of the car. "She said a lady that lived next door to her would do her groceries for her. Violet was her name. I wonder if she still lives here? I should leave her something as a thank you."

"I'll keep and ear out," Edward assured me as we ducked into the shadows. In the dark light and with our speed, we were all but invisible.

We climbed onto the roof of the nearest house, and jumped from house to house in the darkness. We were, after all, creatures of the night. This is what we were designed for.

Willows Lodge had 20 small buildings separated by narrow gravel paths. We jumped from the neighboring house to the first of the Willow's Lodge buildings, to the far right of the property. Edward was by the edge in an instant, jumping off. I followed milliseconds behind. When I landed on the small gravel path, Edward began to laugh. I sent him a quizzical look.

He pointed to the golden number hanging on the door he stood in front of. I dashed over, and grinned when I saw _12B. _

"You wouldn't believe our luck," Edward murmured, grinning.

I turned to the dwellings to our left, "Logic would dictate them to be 13A and 13B."

Edward jumped off of the wooden porch and sprinted to the closest buildings, naturally, I followed suit.

"The closest one sounds occupied, but I don't _think_ the other is. It's difficult to tell."

"Lets hope the closest is 13A, as logic would also suggest."

We were in front of the door then, and Edward was beaming, "13B is empty."

He stepped to the door to his left, and pulled out a thin object that looked suspiciously like one of Esme's hairpins. "I _borrowed_ it," he murmured in defense.

I chuckled, "I wonder why it's still empty? I suppose there isn't much demand for widows housing in a town like Ashland, now."

Edward shrugged, focusing intently on picking the lock, "I suppose not."

There was a soft click as the lock came undone, and we shared a jubilant look before he turned the handle and opened the door. The small house was only a single room, and miraculously, after several months of Esme's absence, it still smelt of her. It didn't seem as though anyone had ventured into the room since Esme's death, because there was still a small cot in the corner of the room, and a handbag sitting on the bedside table, but the bed had been made, even though it still smelt like her.

"The lady next door wont let anyone alter her room, in case she comes back," Edward murmured, "The lady in room 9A is reliving a recent argument with her right now. Tonight is a lucky night for us, Carlisle."

We grinned at each other, then Edward walked over to the bed, and I made my way to the small cot in the corner of the room. There was no scent of Esme's young son there, he wasn't around long enough for it to stick, but there was a beautiful blue blanket there. A laugh escaped my throat as my chest began to throb.

Edward shot me a quizzical glance, and I joined him where he knelt beside the bed.

"I miss her," I murmured, chuckling to myself, "It's silly, I know, but such is love."

One side of Edward lips pulled up into a lopsided grin, "We'll be done soon, the box in beneath the floorboards under the bed."

He pushed the small frame forwards, and the legs squealed against the floorboards. When the bed was far enough over, Edward ran his hands along the floor, feeling for an anomaly, but I had already spotted it. I pointed to the singular floorboard that was roughly half a millimetre higher than the rest of them at one end, and half a millimetre lower than the rest at the other end, "That one."

He grinned at me, "How would she have seen it as a human?" He wondered.

I shrugged, "But I'm not surprised in the least bit, she doesn't miss a thing."

He grinned and began to pull the floorboard off. The first one came off quickly, so we pulled a few of the surrounding ones off until we had made a hole big enough to fish out the box. It was a dusty thing with beautiful ornate carvings on the top and around the sides. Edward handed it to me, and checked to see if anything else was in the hole.

I ran my hand over the top of the box, and blew away the dust. The carvings on the box were distinctly African; the Impala Lilies and South African Foxgloves were scattered all over the lid, although I did not miss the few English flowers that adorned the sides.

"African?" Edward wondered.

I nodded, the carving technique used gave the flowers a look reminiscent of the masks widely used in African sculpture, and it was easy to see a very practiced hand carved it. It was rather odd that it was carved out of American black walnut, though.

"So it wasn't carved in Africa?" He wondered.

I shook my head. A piece like this would be rather expensive to buy though, I couldn't imagine farmers like Esme's parents being in a position to purchase it, and Charles never bought her anything from what she'd told me.

"Her grandparents," Edward murmured, "Perhaps this will jog her memory."

I raised an eyebrow, "What makes you say that?"

"Farmers with diamonds and exotic African carved wooden boxes, who were laughed at and ridiculed by society, and despised by their own daughter? There has to be more to that story."

My brow furrowed, "What makes you think Esme's mother despised her parents?"

"She convinced Esme that they were oddballs because they both chose love over good prospects. Esme's grandmother was the daughter of a Naval Captain, did you know?"

I blinked in surprise, "Really?"

Edward nodded, "She only remembered that a few days ago, when she first began to picture the box. I knew she had to get her sense of adventure somehow."

"Well, she definitely adored her grandparents," I murmured, "Do you think she'll want anything else from here?"

He shrugged, "Not really."

I nodded and rose, "We'd better go before the sun arrives in the sky."

Edward chuckled, moving the bed back to its place and we snuck out in the same fashion that we arrived.

"I'm fairly certain that Violet still lives there," Edward murmured, nodding to number 13A.

"Do you still have that pen I saw you grab from the floor of the car?" I wondered.

Edward chuckled, "I knew you didn't miss that." He pulled the pen from his breast pocket, and I swapped it with the box, reaching into my own pocket to pull out my wallet. I pulled a few notes from the leather pouch, and wrote on the top note, _To Violet, from an old friend._ I slid the money beneath her door before we climbed back on the roof and dashed back to the car.

I sped home, eager to see Esme again, especially after smelling her in her old home. The sun was rising as I turned onto our driveway and I was overjoyed to see Esme walking out the front door to greet us. So much so, I didn't even bother taking the car to the garage. I left the box to Edward and quickly got out of the car, before running to her, bounding up the steps, and picking her up to spin her around.

She laughed at my eagerness, "Well hello, it's nice to see you again too."

"I'll take the car to the garage," Edward murmured.

I mentally thanked him and claimed Esme's lips in mine when he was out of sight.

When she pulled away she grinned up at me, "I'm glad to see you avoided trouble. How did it go?"

"Very well, Gregson doesn't know you at all," I grinned.

She raised her eyebrows happily, "So we'll have guests at our wedding?"

I chuckled, "One guest and one photographer."

She beamed and tilted her chin up to kiss me once again. I pulled away and held her close when I heard Edward shut the garage door.

When he emerged from the garage he carried the box underneath his jacket. Esme's eyes arrowed at the sight, which brought my son immense delight.

"Shall we proceed to the study?" He wondered.

I squeezed Esme before pulling away, "We shall."

She attempted to hide the smile that threatened at her lips, but failed miserably.

"Oh, all right," she grinned, causing Edward and I to share a laugh.

Esme made her way to the study eagerly, and exhaled impatiently as she watched me walk to the fireplace. My family took their seats on the floor by the hearth as I worked. Once I was done, I dashed to my desk and pulled out an object from the bottom drawer, which was covered by a silk cloth.

I placed it next to the jacket-covered wooden box that sat between Edward and Esme, and then both Edward and I turned to look expectantly at the beautiful woman by my side.

I pointed to the smaller silk-covered object, "I've been looking for a good time to give you that one, but I've not found it until now."

She beamed, "Shall I open that one first?"

I nodded, and Edward murmured, "It will take less time, it's empty."

Her brow furrowed and she pursed her lips in confusion before reaching out to lift the silk cloth off the small golden jewellery box I purchased in Duluth.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and she stopped breathing. She sat there for a short time just gazing at it before she reached out and lifted the lid. I was lined with ruby velvet.

"This…" She murmured, "Was mine."

I nodded, "I purchased it from the old man you sold it to."

"He remembered me?" She wondered incredulously.

"Vividly. He kept it hidden away, with your ring inside it."

"Oh, Carlisle, I can't believe you found it!" She continued to stare at the box with wide eyes, until her breath caught in her throat and she began to sob.

Worry filled me and confusion flickered over Edward's face, as she raised her hands to her cheeks and cried tearlessly. I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and she melted into me.

"Love, I apologize, I didn't mean to upset you."

She shook her head profusely, "No, no. I'm happy you found it. I'm happy."

"Why are you crying?" I wondered in bemusement.

"Happy," Edward marveled, "She's crying because she's happy."

Of course! That made sense. I had seen this phenomenon a few times over my years as a doctor. Upon receiving good news some women – and men, for that matter – would erupt into tears. I'd never understood it, having only ever associated tears with sadness and pain.

Judging by Edward's continual slow shaking of his head, he didn't understand it either.

Esme took a deep breath as the sobs subsided, and pulled away, "Thank you," she murmured reverently, "This always meant so much to me, it was supposed to be mine, but mother made me sell it. I never got much from my grandparent's house when they died, only a box Christoffel carved for them when he and his wife lived in their barn. I snuck into their house once I'd heard of the accident and stole it. I hid it underneath my bed at home, and under the sink when I lived in the city. I even brought it to Ashland with me, but its still at my old house, of course, Edward knows this but I…" her eyes fell on the box concealed by Edward's jacket, then drifted to him and then to me, "Where exactly did you go after you went to the hospital?" She asked suspiciously.

"I could ask you a few questions with the same suspicion. Like, what was a Dutch man doing living in your grandparents barn?"

"Oh, he wasn't Dutch," Esme grinned, "Well, he was born in the Netherlands but his family relocated when he was one year old, to South Africa." Edward's face brightened at her words, "So he swore to being an Afrikaner," Esme continued, "He grew up there, and moved to Germany when he was eighteen, where he married. When he was 23, he and his wife decided to move to the United States."

"But why was he in your barn?" Edward pressed.

"Where did you go earlier today?" Esme's eyebrows headed for her hairline.

"Exactly where you think," he grinned, reaching forward to pull his jacket off of the box as a magician would at a show.

Esme gasped when she lay eyes on one of the only heirlooms she would ever inherit, "I can't believe you did this," she murmured, "For me."

I couldn't help but grin at her awe as she reached out for the box. Her fingers ran over the flowers with a definite familiarity, and she whispered, "Fun."

I cocked an eyebrow and Edward began laughing, "He lived in a barn for fun?"

Esme shrugged, "You have to understand, he was an unusual man. He lived lavishly his whole life, and all he ever wanted to do was try new things. He met my grandfather in New York, in 1892. He was processed at Ellis Island in late October. They stayed in New York City until January 1895, when my grandparents found out I was to be born mid-year. My grandfather had sold the family farm in 1891, when my uncle had announced his intentions to move to a large city to work and study. He loved cities, that's why he ended up in Milwaukee, and my grandparents adored him, so at my mothers insistence, they followed him to New York. My grandfather – a smooth talker if there ever was one – got a job on Ellis Island, where he was working when Christoffel and his wife were processed. They clicked instantly, and when it was time for my grandparents to leave New York, Christoffel decided to leave too, he purchased their old farm for them, and asked if he and his wife could live in the barn. He seemed to have gold coming out his ears that man; he even gave my grandfather a ring for my grandmother who had accepted my grandfather's proposal with a chain made from daisies. Then one day Christoffel gave them this box that he had carved, and the next day he was gone. Leaving everything behind, all of his jewels, even some money. My grandparents had most of the gold melted down, and made into the box, as well as a locket, both adorned with the jewels. I don't know why he left… or where he went."

Esme picked up the wooden box, and rested it on her lap, "They were an adventure."

"No wonder you couldn't stand the thought of a mundane life," Edward grinned.

Esme laughed, "They taught me to love the wind, and when you love the wind, you can't stand to stay inside."

She smiled to herself and pushed a piece of wood to the side on the front of the box, with a little click, the box was unlocked. Gingerly she raised the lid.

Edward let out a little laugh, "Least important thing on the top, hey?"

Esme nodded, and pulled out a small wad of notes, "My savings," she grinned.

She placed them on the floor, and pulled out the next thing, it was a small round locket made from gold. It couldn't have been larger than my thumbnail, and I adored the way she looked at it with tender love. The face was adorned with rubies and tiny diamonds in a flower-like configuration; it matched the jewellery box perfectly. She clicked the latch, and it opened, but it was empty. She smiled at it none the less, and closed it, before flipping it on it's back. I watched carefully as she read something, and then she turned to me. She held it out for me to take, which I did willingly. I turned it over, and there written in elegant letters were the three things her grandparents always told her, _Freely, Wildly, Vividly. _I opened it, and discovered that around the thin rim, more letters had been skilfully engraved. _Esme, Truly, Sincerely, Passionately. _I understood immediately. These were her grandparents' guides to living and loving. It was a beautiful gesture.

Next she pulled out two tiny little blue knitted socks. She sighed, and put them on the floor beneath the money, "I'll be strong enough for that some day."

I placed the necklace beside the money, and stroked her cheek. She smiled at me reassuringly. She was all right.

Edward took a deep breath, "Now that the sun is up, I have to drive to Duluth and pick up some last minute sheet music for Mrs. Paten, Pastor Brian's wife, and then I'll be out in Mason for a while today. I'm glad you liked your surprises, Esme." Edward grinned, and leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead, "I'll see you both later on."

We nodded and wished him a good day, before Esme turned back to the box and laughed.

I raised an eyebrow, and she pulled out two thin leather-bound books. She turned to me with her wide, bright eyes and held out the books.

"Wasn't it just the other day that you mentioned you'd love to read my journals?" She teased.

I grinned remembering our teasing conversation in the washroom as I taught her to develop photos, and I nodded in reply.

"Well here you go, they're all yours, but I can't say you'll like everything that's in there. You might, I'm not sure. Truthfully, I don't remember what I wrote. I never kept many," I reached out and took the books, she smiled and turned back to the box, "But I'd say that you'll make an appearance or two, if I know myself well at all."

I raised a dubious eyebrow, "Are you sure? I was only joking, please don't feel pressured into letting me read these just because I want to know your every thought."

She looked up and smiled, "I've never been much of a brave person, I've always been cautious. I've never written anything in a journal that I would be upset if someone else read. I'm not callous, I was always very careful not to write anything that wasn't blatantly obvious to my mother, so she wouldn't have a heart attack when she snuck her nose into them as I climbed trees," she laughed, "Truthfully, those are just pitiful poetic prose attempts and open letters to people I don't like."

She reached out for the books she'd given me, and I handed them over quickly. She didn't put them back in the box however, like I expected her to. Instead, she opened the cover of the one on top.

"This one is entitled: They Banned Her Books, So She Wrote More – A Collection of Stray Thoughts and Forbidden Imaginary Things," she shook her head and laughed, handing the book back, "You'll definitely be in there, it was 1911." She picked up the other journal and flicked it open, "And this one is called: This is Not Forgiveness, from 1920. Well, I can't imagine that to be a happy read, but if you're still interested…" she smiled and shrugged, placing the book on the ground in front of me.

"Really?" I murmured.

She gave me a wide grin, showing her beautiful, straight white teeth, "Really," she murmured, before leaning over to place a kiss upon my cheek.

The curiosity burned so bright in my body that without seeking further reassurance, I flicked open to the middle of the book and read the very first thing that I saw, _'To forget him would be a horrendous mistake. To forget the way he listened, to forget the way he talked, would be an injustice to myself. To forget the way he looked would be impossible. He had light gold hair and a strong golden heart, which I could see through his deep golden eyes. What a being!  
Perfection finally found a definition, and his name was Carlisle Cullen.'_

Shock coated over the curiosity, forcing me to reread her words over and over again. I looked up at her, my face slack. She glanced at my face, and her own melted into a bemused expression. Letting out a small laugh, she held her hand out for the book, I surrendered it back to her. Her golden eyes flew over the page before she let out another small laugh, "Perhaps I shouldn't have let you read this," but she shook her head and gave the book back to me, "That's not the half of it," her laughed was more exuberant now.

"You loved me," I murmured.

She bit the inside of her lip and shook her head, "I thought I did, bit I didn't really know you. I do, however, know you now, and I can be fairly certain that I'm head over heels in love with you, Carlisle Cullen."

I put the book down beside me, and grinned as I moved closer to her. With a curious expression, she put the box down beside her. I grabbed both of her hands in mine, "And I, Esme Anne Platt, am head over heels, truly, sincerely and passionately in love with you."

Her eyes shined with glee, "Over these past few months, you have said some absolutely beautiful things to me, but I think, perhaps, that might be my most favourite thing I've ever heard."

Beaming, I pulled her into my arms, and for the umpteenth time I pressed my lips to her hair, and thanked the Lord for blessing me with her love, because no Earthy being could ever love quite like my Esme could love. Truly, sincerely, and passionately.

* * *

_A.N. Thanks for the reviews! Hope you all enjoy. Much love x  
_


	43. Garlands of Holly

_Chapter Forty-Three: Garlands of Holly_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, December 1921_

_Edward_

_The rooster's cuckoo woke her at the break of dawn, when the soft light flooded her small bedroom and tatty curtains. It was officially the 1__st__ of December 1908; she was thirteen years old, and bursting with excitement. She threw the yellow covers of her creaky single bed off of her body and flew to the old wooden door, which she flung gleefully open. The moment her feet hit the wooden floorboards of the hallway, she began to run._

"_Hark! The herald angles sing," she belted at the top of her lungs, in her usual upbeat fashion, "Glory to the newborn king!"_

_She could hear a soft groan and quiet chuckles coming from the room at the end of the hall. Smiling as she ran and sang, she headed straight for it. They could hear her coming, of course. The door flew open to reveal her amused father and wary looking mother. _

"_Good morning, and Happy Christmas Season!" She beamed._

"_Good morning, Esme," her father chuckled, "Happy Christmas Season."_

"_Morning papa."_

"_Good morning, Esme." Her mother murmured._

"_Morning ma… other."_

_Her mother let out a humourless laugh, "Do you have to be quite so loud at this time in the morning?"_

_She grinned, "I'm merely competing with the roosters, that is all. Does my joy bring with it unease?"_

"_Not at all," her mother sighed, "Your singing is a lovely way to wake up. It's just very _loud_. Soft and ladylike, remember?"_

"_But mother this is how I learned to sing! Loud and proud," she beamed, and her father chuckled._

"_And who, may I ask, has been teaching you?" Her mother folded her arms across her chest, "I wouldn't want my daughter to be taught by those who don't know."_

"_Gramma and Pop," she stated proudly._

"_Esme," her mother warned, "How many times have I told you, it's grandmother, and grandfather. You're not two, you can pronounce it."_

"_Mother, it's _Christmas_." The girl reminded her._

"_Esme, you're _thirteen_." Her mother mimicked her tone._

_She grinned mischievously, "Then I have a few more years to run around the house and sing Christmas carols on December first!" She backed out of the room giggling, and her mother cracked a smile._

"_Your wit will get you in trouble, young lady!" She called after the girl who was dashing down the hallway singing at the top of her lungs. _

"_Peace on Earth and mercy mild, God and sinners reconciled…" She added a twirl at the end of the hallway, before she ran down the stairs and to the family room, where she flew around the room in twirls and gallops._

_Her father came down stairs not long after, grinning at his daughter's jubilant mood, and carrying a worn brown box, "The Christmas decorations for you, m'lady."_

_She beamed and ran over to him, pulling out her favourite fragile pieces once he'd put it down._

"_Hark! The herald angles sing, Glory to the newborn king!"_

_She swung around and hung the very first decoration on the mantle, for this is what she always did, year after year, after year. Tradition, it was, because Christmas began – to her – on December first._

She opened her eyes with a flutter, and grinned at the memory. It was one of the few happy memories that she was able to retain from her human life. She briefly wondered what the time was, and I considered telling her, but the silence in our house was far too perfect to break. The weather outside was brumous, sleet had been falling for hours, but it showed no signs of turning to snow, and the wet floor would never allow it to stick. I'd been trying to read all night, but given up trying to shut out their minds to focus on the words on paper, so instead I let their reading be my stories. Esme had mentally read me _A Christmas Carol_, and Carlisle had read me an article by Fidel Pages about his newly devised method of a 'single-shot' lumbar epidural anaesthesia. It was a strange mix of things, I'll admit, but such was being a mind reading vampire. I was lying down beneath my piano, gazing out at the horrid weather, as Esme now day dreamed on the chaise, and Carlisle still poured over his work. Their thoughts were filled with happiness at being in one another's company. Carlisle was due to leave for work at one, and he would finish at seven in the morning. I checked my wristwatch for the time: it was five to twelve. Soon would be gone November 1921, never to be seen again. I slid out from underneath the piano and appeared in the doorway, much to Carlisle's surprise.

He gave me a smile and went back to his work, but Esme did not look away.

"Shall I seat myself at the piano and prepare for the Christmas carols to begin?" I wondered.

She grinned at me and laughed, shaking her head, "I've not done that since I was thirteen."

I shrugged, "It's never too late to start it all again."

"_You_ could sing us some Christmas carols?" She suggested, but I shook my head.

"No, I've been told I make them sound far to upsetting, and haunting."

"This is a house full of vampires, I think we can deal with haunting," she challenged.

"Ah, but it's the Christmas season, should we not stick to happy and uplifting?"

"Then perhaps we ought to get the record player out, yes?"

I chuckled and nodded, moving toward the fire, "Yes, perhaps that's best."

"It's only the first," Carlisle murmured, "We celebrate this early?"

I shrugged, "Esme always has."

She let out a small giggle, "I'm always a little over-excited."

Carlisle and I had let the past three Christmases go by largely unnoticed, we'd no need to celebrate with any fanfare, and neither of us had desired any gifts. Spoiling Esme, however, would be a great deal of fun.

"Do you boys not celebrate Christmas?" Esme wondered, and I shook my head.

"We've not yet," Carlisle replied, "But we will if you'd like to."

She shrugged nonchalantly, but I could tell she was greatly excited about the idea of celebrating. Not for the gifts or anything of the like, but rather for the handmade decorations, popcorn chains and perhaps even some Christmas lights. Not to mention, a _perfect_ Christmas tree.

"We can pick out a Christmas tree today, if you'd like?" I wondered.

"Do you think it's a little silly to celebrate this early?" She murmured self-consciously, flicking a fingernail beneath her thumbnail.

Carlisle and I both shook our heads.

"It's a nice idea, love," Carlisle closed his book and stood up, "It can be Cullen family tradition," he was by her side in an instant, grinning up at her reassuringly.

"And besides," I added, "It's tradition in Australia. We can pretend we're Australian for the month."

She giggled, "A'right, mate," she flicked me a wink.

Carlisle and I laughed at her endearing humour.

"Carlisle," Esme wondering I her sing-song manner, "Do you remember what Christmas was like when you were young?"

He cocked his head to the side in deep thought, as his mind drifted back over two hundred and fifty years.

We spent the next hour of the morning listening to Carlisle recount Christmas stories from the many years he'd been there to witness. My favourite of his stories was the one in which he met Charles Dickens in an empty church in New York during 1842. They talked for hours of Christianity and morals. It was a year later in 1843 that he received the signed copy of A Christmas Carol from Dickens, with a vague thank you note in the back. In the late 1850's Carlisle dressed himself up to look a little more aged, and met Dickens again, this time he was invited to spend Christmas day with his family, and Dickens even favoured his guests with a reading of his famous Christmas tale.

Come one o'clock though, it was time for Carlisle to go, _Edward, a word?_

I nodded and followed him out the door to the garage, "What's on your mind?" I joked.

He chuckled, _Oh, you know._

"Indeed I do," I replied wryly.

_I was wondering, next time you're in Mason, could you please double check that it's near-on impossible for anyone to hear Pastor Brian speak from the front row? I truly would like to marry Esme Platt, not Anna Masen._ He pursed his lips thoughtfully; _Esme and I will just have to practise speaking very, very quiet._

"Of course, although I'm fairly certain it's impossible."

_I just want to be _completely_ certain._

"I understand," I smiled, "Did you pick up the rings the other day?"

He laughed, remembering his time up in Duluth. Carlisle had returned to the same store that he'd purchased Esme's engagement ring at.

"_Son!" The old white-haired man exclaimed when Carlisle entered the room, "I am glad to see you back! Did you ask your lovely lady for her hand?"_

"_Indeed I did," Carlisle grinned, "And that's why I'm here again, I'd like to pick out some wedding bands."_

_The old man cocked his head to the side, "Some? How many are you buying her?"_

_Carlisle chuckled, "Only one, but I'd like one for myself also."_

_The elderly man pursed his lips, and then nodded, "A sweet gesture. I suppose you would have quite the fan club, with a face like that."_

"_Indeed," Carlisle admitted awkwardly, "But rather, I'd like to have a constant reminder that she is real. I was alone a very long time before I found her."_

"_Of course, young chap. Fair enough. Are we looking for special things once again?"_

_Carlisle shrugged, "Something plain for me, please, I'm a doctor, so I don't want anything too flashy."_

"_Ah," the man was impressed, "What kind of doctor? A fancy one?"_

"_I do the odd surgery," Carlisle replied bashfully._

"_A very fancy doctor then," the old man beamed, "And for your fiancée? Something special, yes?"_

_Carlisle nodded, "Yes please."_

_This set the old man off,_ "_It would need to be small, quite thin. Elegant, nothing plain, but nothing that will overshadow the engagement ring…" He walked around to the cabinet he held the wedding bands in, knocking off many objects from the cluttered mess behind the counter, "Last time you were here you said she likes trees, yes? Perhaps something with a floral-like pattern?" He scanned the cabinet, shaking his head, "I don't have anything like that, but I could make something! When is the wedding?"_

"_Three weeks from now."_

"_That's long enough. Would you like me to make something?" _

_Carlisle could not mistake the excitement in his eyes, nor could he deny the man this chance, "That would be lovely, if it wouldn't be too much trouble."_

"_Not at all, not at all! And for you, I could keep the outside design plain, bare, simple, but on the inside, I could engrave the exact design that is on hers?"_

_Carlisle beamed, "That sounds lovely. It truly does."_

_The man was nearly jumping for joy, "All right, let me get some paper and we shall devise a design. Yellow gold and diamond for the lady?"_

_Carlisle eagerly affirmed the man's assumption, and they designed the rings then and there. Three weeks later Carlisle walked out of the store with the rings in his breast pocket, and a gargantuan grin upon his face. _

He laughed at the memory; _Esme still hasn't seen them yet. I'm keeping it a secret._

I shook my head fondly, "You're terrible."

He beamed but shrugged, _She liked surprises._

I laughed as he opened the garage door, "Everything else has been done, yes?"

He nodded, _All but the flowers, you'll pick them up Saturday morning?_

"Of course," I assured him.

"Good," he grinned.

"And the honeymoon?" I wondered.

"All sorted, I've found a lovely place not too far from the lake, and don't you worry. It's not actually _in_ a ghost town, it's merely _near_ one."

"Well, I'm don't know a great deal about romance, but I never picked abandoned mines and ghost towns to fit into that category. Each to their own, I suppose."

Carlisle shrugged, "Esme likes adventure."

"I think she would have liked Paris too," I joked.

Carlisle shook his head indulgently, "But you wouldn't have appreciated us going off on our own."

"Touché, father."

He grinned and got in the car, "Have a good morning, Edward."

I nodded, "You also. I'll see you around seven."

"I'll try to ring if I'll be late."

We bode each other farewell before he backed out of the garage and I closed the door, and dashing back to the house where Esme was excitedly waiting for me.

"Hello again mother," I grinned, kissing the top of her head.

"Would you really like to pick out a tree this morning?" She wondered.

Laughing, I nodded, "Shall we go now?"

"Let me change first, and then we'll need baskets and an axe form the garage." She ran out of the room and up the stairs.

"Why baskets?" I wondered as I heard her dresser drawers open.

"Because we need pinecones, holly, and bendy branches," Esme informed me happily, as silk slid over marble.

I raised an eyebrow, "I thought you were meaning a tree to carry in the baskets."

She laughed, "I don't want a tree _that_ small."

She dashed downstairs and then we were gone. Esme grabbed some large baskets from the garage as I fetched the axe, and she carried two on each arm into the forest.

"Can't I help?" I wondered.

Giggling, she surrendered one, "Just don't hurt yourself with the axe… Or don't hurt the axe with yourself."

We didn't have to go far into the forest to find bendy branches, pinecones, or holly bushes, but no tree was good enough for my vampire mother. She appraised each pine, and spruce she saw, pursed her lips, and shook her head. By the time the baskets were full of holly, twigs and pinecones, I was slightly exasperated.

"I know another place with more pine trees," I sighed, "Would you like to go there?"

She ignored my impatient mood, but noticed it none the less, "I think that would be wise," she murmured.

As we ran, Esme was thinking about her wedding dress, which sat upon her bed upstairs in our house. She was gallantly fighting the urge to run home and try it on again. I laughed as she remembered one of her early visits to the Fortendue's dress store.

"_Now, Anna, we've drawn up some designs for the gown, so take a look and tell us what you think," Mrs. Fortendue fluttered around the small dressing room like a tornado, grabbing pieces of paper from everywhere._

Edward?_ Esme thought, _Is there any way that you could get Carlisle out of hearing range for any amount of time?

_She heard my voice from the other room, "Carlisle! Shoes! We need to get the shoes! Esme had the magazine in the car with the type she wanted and her feet measurements. You should go and place the order with the shoe maker."_

"_Is that the best idea, Edward?" Carlisle's voice was always music to Esme's ears. _

"_Yes, don't worry, I'm keeping a look on things."_

_She heard him sigh, and then he called out to the door, "I'm just stepping out down the street, Edward is staying here. I'll be back soon. You take care of my Anna, Mrs. Fortendue."_

_The girls giggled, "We will, Doctor Cullen! Don't you worry!"_

"_Stay safe!" Esme called out, and Carlisle chuckled._

"_Always have, always will."_

_He flicked me a small grin, before he turned around the corner and left. Esme waited a while after she heard the tingling of the bell before she spoke, "Mrs. Fortendue?" She murmured cautiously._

"_Yes dear?"_

"_I was wondering, perhaps, if I could make a slight change to the design. It will be the only one, I promise." Esme was nervous that she was going to say now; she didn't particularly want the Fortendue women to think she was strange, and reflect badly upon Carlisle._

"_Of course?" Mrs. Fortendue and her daughters were very curious now._

"_It might be slightly unusual," Esme cautioned teasingly._

_The girls giggled._

"_Yes?" Mrs. Fortendue asked cautiously._

"_Perhaps unseen out of any French magazine…" Esme teased.  
_

"_Oh golly," Mary giggled, her and Hazel's thoughts were very excited._

"_It's only that, I had my nose in a history book the other day and I became curious about my family heritage, especially since I don't have many relatives remaining on Earth, and much to my surprise I found an ancestor of mine who shared my name. She had such an interesting story, and I even found a painting of her on her wedding day in 1660. She looked so utterly beautiful, so I was wondering if perhaps I could have some seventeenth century influences in the design? Obviously not a conical hat with the veil," the girls burst into fits of hysterics, "But perhaps a fuller skirt? Not as full as the gowns form the 1600's, but…" _

"_Maybe a layer of tulle, or two?" Hazel suggested._

"_Yes! Something like that," Esme beamed, ecstatic that they believed her lie. "Only one thing… I really _don't_ want to wear a corset."_

"_It sounds lovely. Do you still want the sash just above your hips, dear?" Mrs. Fortendue wondered._

_Esme nodded, "I'd still like the style of the top to be the same."_

"_We could tie it in a bow at the back of the sash, mother?" Mary suggested._

"_That's a lovely idea, yes. If we do the first layer of bodice slim fitting, and the second layer straight, we could make the full skirt work with the fashions of today. Yes, yes, that sounds lovely. A unique idea, Miss Masen. I like it."_

Esme was extremely happy with how the dress turned out; it was the perfect mix of sophistication and woodland fairy-like.

"You're very excited," I murmured, grinning.

She looked to me bashfully and laughed, "I am. I'm still practising my hair though; I haven't got it quite right… Especially without my headdress… I should have gotten the wax one." She sighed, wishing I were picking up the floral headpiece earlier than the morning of the wedding.

"Esme, your hair always looks lovely. Don't fret over it. Truly, Carlisle wouldn't care if you had it all falling out in the knot you wear when we're hunting."

She laughed again, but this time it was filled with mirth, "Yes, I know. But _I _would. Now, let's find the perfect tree so we can go back home and decorate."

I raised an eyebrow, "And you can practise your hair again?"

She merely grinned in reply, and darted off, further into the forest. I followed after her with a laugh.

She was weaving in and out of trees when I caught up with her, simultaneously criticizing them, and picturing her dream hairdo.

_Finger waves? This tree is too tall. Curls? That tree is too wide. Finger waves _and_ curls? Perhaps this tree? No, there are too many branches; I need a baby spruce tree. ___Finger waves in the front, and curls in the back? _ I prefer the spruce shape to the pine.  
_

"Esme, you're giving me a headache," I groaned.

She flicked me an apology, _I think I'll look for a baby spruce tree, and have finger waves in the front with curls in the back. How does that sound?_

"Lovely. Where will we find a baby tree?" I wondered.

_But the veil will hide most of it._

I rolled my eyes and shook my head, setting off on my own to find a small spruce tree.

_And I don't want the headpiece to hide all the hair in the front… I wonder how they did their hair in the 1600's?_

"This one?" I wondered, pointing to a medium sized tree.

She looked over and shook her head, "It doesn't stand straight enough."

I nodded, and kept looking, but it was Esme who found it in the end, _Edward! What do you think of this one?_

I saw the pretty red spruce in her mind, and although it was cute, I thought it perhaps too small for our sitting room. This was, however, Esme's domain, so I didn't voice my concerns. I trusted her, and hoped that she was right.

I cut the trunk low, so not to lose any of the height, and took extreme care to cut straight, as I had been ordered to. My vampire mother certainly knew how to direct things. I carried the tree on my back, she did offer to help carry it, but that would have been more awkward. Esme was much quicker than me with her newborn speed when I was carrying the tree, which was rather frustrating.

She was bubbling with excitement when the little dark farmhouse came into sight. She lingered excitedly by the kitchen door, which looked much too small to fit the sleet-covered tree in.

"How will we get this inside?" I wondered.

She shrugged, "We'll manage. Never underestimate the power of will."

I couldn't help shaking my head indulgently at my mother, but she was right. We pushed and pulled the wet tree through the small doorframe and only lost a few of its precious branches.

"I needed to prune it anyway," Esme shrugged.

In the kitchen we tried to dry the spruce as best we could, but we still managed to trudge frozen rain down the hall and into the sitting room.

"Don't get it on the fabric of the couch!" Esme reminded me almost frantically.

I laughed, "If I do, I'll tell Carlisle it was you."

I earned myself a reproving glare, which only enhanced my smile even more.

We positioned the tree in the corner near the archway to the study, where Esme had deemed the perfect place. She dashed out to the garage to get a strange clipping tool that she then used to cut the branches and re-shape the tree. She stepped back beaming once it was done, and I was right not to doubt her. It fit it perfectly.

"Now we have to decorate!" She nearly jumped from excitement.

I went upstairs to fetch the record player and the few Christmas records that I owned, before bringing it down, choosing my favourite, lighting the fire in the study and listening to her frantic thoughts as she searched all throughout the house for anything to make decorations with.

"I could pop into town if you'd like?" I offered.

_No! You'll end up listening to some Einstein-like lecture in Duluth for three hours!_

I chuckled, "Fair point."

Esme flew through the house looking for materials, so I decided to settle down with a good book and wait until she was finished. She turned out to be more interesting than my book, however, so I ended up paying more attention to my darling mother. She found yards and yards of string in Carlisle's study, along with paper that she plonked on the small living room coffee table, she retrieved cinnamon sticks and salt from the kitchen, as well as just about every dusty glass we owned. She gathered the trimmings of the tree and placed them with the baskets full of holly and pinecones beside the table, then dashed back into the study to grab candles. She then ran back out to the garage and brought back in arm full's of hay from the bails, wood that was left over from our attic renovations, and some rusty bells I'd never seen before. She then grabbed a decent amount of wooden pegs from the washroom, and began to contemplate ripping down the red curtains in the art room. Grinning, I placed down my closed book and dashed up to my room. I ripped the green fabric from its place either side of the windows, and fetched a pile of empty sheet music. I offered them to her with a grin, and she gleefully accepted, then ran upstairs and tore down the horrid red curtains in the strange little room we barely ever ventured into. She even found some wooden dominos, which together with her art supplies, a few pairs of scissors and some flour and water gluey substance, were the last things placed on the tiny, overflowing table.

I turned to Esme, "Where do we begin?"

She taught me how to make paper flowers, and paper snowflakes, then she glued cinnamon sticks around candles and tied string around them, all before she painted the letters of 'Christmas' onto different pieces of pre-painted coloured paper, and hung the paper on string with pegs like a clothes line. She sprinkled salt on things, making it look like snow, and she tied ribbons on top of pine cones, then attached string, to hang them with the paper flowers and paper snowflakes on the tree, which she hung with the rusty bells from the garage. While she worked her crafty magic with the wood and the trimmings of the branches, I wrote Christmas songs on the sheet music and fashioned strips into a long paper chain to drape around the tree. Once she'd hung wooden crosses that she'd made from the wood and trimmings, she used the hay from the garage floor and tied it into bundles, to hang as beside the wooden dominos that had string wrapped around their middles. Finally, we placed holly sporadically through the braches and draped my chain around it all.

We stood back and observed our red, green but mostly brown tree, "At least there's a definable colour scheme," Esme murmured, "It's not _unpleasing_ to the eye."

I chuckled, "It's not the most traditional I've ever seen, but I like it."

"We just need an angel," Esme gazed longingly at the top of the tree.

"Or a star," I pointed out.

"Very true," she nodded, before turning away and looking at the basket full of sticks, "Now, for the wreath."

I watched carefully as she bent sticks into a circle and tied them all together with string, before sticking the left over spruce branches around it, and finishing it off with holly and red ribbons.

"You're very good at making these things, you know. Your mother would have been proud."

A small smile crept onto her face, "I think so too. I wonder if I did it as a human."

I raised an eyebrow, "You could try to remember?"

She pursed her lips and nodded, before closing her eyes, and sifting through every memory of her parents that she had.

She remembered learning how to ride a horse when she was seven, cooking in the kitchen with her mother while her father was outside. Her mother was happy, laughing, and complementing a young Esme. Then there were the teenage years, the pleading mother, the disappointed father, and the girl who just wanted to live. There were the long discussions about the adverse effects of books, the terrible influence of some particular family members, and the desperate need to accept a man's hand. All of the memories that flew through Esme's head centred around a wooden dining table that sat in the middle of the kitchen.

"I was a good cook," Esme grinned, her eyes still closed, "I remember that."

She remembered serving dinner to happy parents, whose faces soon turned exasperated when _Alice in Wonderland_ fell out of their daughter's large apron pocket.

"_You'll burn something someday, Esme! It's irresponsible!" Her mother chided._

"_Oh, but mother, I always read while I cook and I've not burned anything yet. Surely you can attest to that. Have I ever burnt your dinner?" The girl asked with hands on her hips._

"_Esme Anne Platt!" Her father boomed, "That is no way to speak to your mother. Is that how you will address your future husband?"_

"_No!" Her nose shot up indignantly, "I shall marry a man who adores me reading at the stove."_

"_To your room. This instant. I don't want to hear another word from you this evening," her father growled. He was rarely ever angry, only after a long day farming, when he was tired._

"_This is called oppression, you know." She retorted as she pulled the string on the back of her apron, "You can try to take away my voice all you please, but you will never push me down far enough for me to forget the person I am, and who I want to be –"_

"_TO YOUR ROOM!"_

"_Here!" She placed her book on the table, never once raising her voice, "Rip it, burn it, I don't mind, but as long as I have my mind I'll never stop having stories."_

"_And how will you manage that?" Her mother challenged, "If we take away all of your books?" _

"_I shall write my own," she smiled, "Now I bid you goodnight, and I hope very much that you enjoy your dinner. I shall write you out the recipe tomorrow morning if you do… assuming that this house still has writing implements inside of it, and I don't mean burning in the hearth."_

_Without another word, the young girl headed for the stairs and locked herself in the room with her hidden library._

"That's not the memory I was looking for," Esme murmured thoughtfully, opening her eyes and gazing at the wreath in her hands, "Table… craft…mother… compliments."

_Flour was on the floor, and water was covering the kitchen bench, but the laughter that filled the room meant none of that mattered. It was mid-morning, the clock had just struck nine, and the fourteen year old girl sat beside her mother, who looked far more youthful wearing her smile, with her hands delicately wrapping ribbons around blown glass baubles._

"_Oh, you're much better at this than me Esme. I can't seem to think of anything lovely to make."_

_The girl blushed slightly, "Mother, do you remember when I was young and I would wake up in the middle of the night with those horrendous nightmares I promised to never mention to father?"_

"_Yes, of course I do."_

"_I think for a moment you must have thought me cursed, until you saw the books at the foot of my bed, and you placed a kiss on my forehead, then whispered, 'This is the downside to having an over-active imagination,' well, this here is the upside of having an over-active imagination. Creativity."_

_Her mother laughed, "Yes, I suppose you're right. We need to channel it constructively."_

"_Like into crafts and paintings?"_

_Her mother nodded, "Exactly."_

"_You like Jane Austen, don't you?" Esme curiously wondered._

"_Yes, you know I do," her mother murmured._

"_She was a writer," the girl trailed off shyly._

"_Of romance," her mother stated bluntly._

"_Yes?" _

"_I know what you're thinking, Esme. You would never write romance in a thousand years."_

_The girl pursed her lips, "I _could_."_

_Her mother raised her eyebrows, "You would write romance in a world that had purple grass."_

_Neither woman could help the smile that spread across their face, _

"_It would still be a romance," Esme murmured, wistfully looking down at the beautiful forest she had made out of woodchips and stray leaves, covered in snow made of sugar and salt. _

I watched Esme's sad face as she looked up to the window, "We were close sometimes," she whispered, "I miss those times, but they were very rare. I've never seen the point in mourning them, but I do miss them."

I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and pulled her into a half hug, "I guess the beautiful thing about having eternity to live, is the chance to make new memories with people you love and care about."

She smiled, "You're very right Edward, never lose that golden heart of yours, my darling boy."

She reached up to place a tender kiss on my forehead, when suddenly the phone pierced through our tender moment.

"I'll get it," I murmured, standing from my kneeling space by the tiny table.

I ducked into the study to stop the shrill ringing, "Good morning, Cullen residence, Edward speaking."

"Edward," Carlisle's voice murmured, "I'll be late home today, patients have just been brought in with terrible injuries, the surgery won't be quick."

"That's fine, I'll tell Anna not to prepare breakfast for you until later."

"Thank you, Edward."

"Good luck, uncle." I murmured, and he laughed.

"Have a nice morning," I could hear the grin in his voice before he hung up.

I didn't bother telling Esme of the conversation, I knew she heard, so instead I marched back into the sitting room where she was standing my the tree, grabbed her by the hand and pulled her into a dance. She laughed gleefully and picked up the steps effortlessly.

"I wonder where you learned to dance?" I murmured.

She laughed, "Enough reliving memories for today. I'm making new ones right now. Let us enjoy it."

"As you wish, m'lady," I grinned, and spun her around, much to her delight.

We danced around the cluttered sitting room for hours, right up until Carlisle came home. I heard the eagerness in her thoughts, so grinning; I spun her out of the room.

Carlisle chuckled at her entrance into the hallway.

She ran up to him beaming, "Hello stranger, how was your morning?"

"Better now," he grinned, catching her in his arms, "And yours?"

"Delightful, thank you. We made a beautiful mess in the sitting room."

"I can smell that," he laughed, "Spruce tree, wood, candles, rust?"

She nodded and tilted her chin up for a kiss, he grinned down at her all too innocently, "I don't see any mistletoe," he teased.

She narrowed her eyes playfully, "That's never stopped you before."

I sighed, I was never going to be able to block thoughts out. It was like I was there, the entire time, living their lives for them. My parents were considerate though, they didn't kiss in the hallway when they heard me sigh, which did make me feel guilty.

Esme pulled Carlisle to the doorway, and his eyes widened when he saw the mess on the table and over the floor, "Perhaps next year I'll take the first of December off work, it looks like I missed out on some fun here."

"Sorry about the mess," Esme murmured looking at her toes.

He kissed the top of her head, "Not at all. As long as you enjoyed it, mess is no problem."

_He's too kind,_ she marveled.

_She's so wonderful,_ he thought tenderly.

Their thoughts were always so sweet regarding one another; sometimes I felt a pang in my heart that I did not know feelings like theirs. But Carlisle waited nearly 300 years for Esme, so I could be patient too.

_Thank you for indulging her, Edward,_ Carlisle grinned at me. I gave him a nod.

"I brought home a little something for the tree," he murmured to Esme.

Her eyes lit up, "Did you really?"

Her mind was wildly curious as she watched him pull out a small box from his medical bag, "Here you go," he murmured as he handed it to her.

It was a small golden box, I all ready knew what was hidden inside there, Esme would love it.

She eagerly opened the lid and pulled out a beautiful golden, ornate angel for the top of the tree.

"Oh, Carlisle! She's beautiful, thank you!"

Her arms flew around his neck, and he laughed, dropping his bag, and somehow managing to turn her around in his arms. Her carried her over to the tree and lifted her up higher so she could place the ornament on the very top.

The angel completed it all. It truly looked wonderful.

"Good job, Esme. It looks beautiful," I murmured.

She turned around to grin at me, "The first Cullen Christmas tree. It was a family effort."

_Family, _Carlisle marveled at the word as he put his beloved down.

I nodded, "You're right. _We_ did a good job."

Esme and Carlisle's minds were both delirious with joy, so I took that as my signal to put a halt to the sentimentality, "All right, I'm going to go and read about death and murder now, I'll talk to the both of you later."

With that, I bolted out of the sitting room, up the stairs and into my bedroom, closing the door behind me. I jumped down on the dusty green bed, grabbing some sheet music from my side table, and tried as best as I could to block out the minds and voice of my parents.

It wasn't working well, so I grabbed the radio and turned it up as loud as it would go, not caring what station it played. I lost myself in the paper music resting in my hands.

When I descended the stairs later in the afternoon, Carlisle was alone in his office, and Esme was in the garage outside, hanging up the washing. I sat down at the piano and begun to nail out the complex piece I had read all morning.

When Carlisle emerged from the study in the afternoon, his thoughts were on Esme. He couldn't smell her in the house. If I hadn't have been there, he would have checked outside soon enough, but there was no point delaying them finding one another.

"She's in the garage," I murmured softly, absorbed in my music.

_Thank you_

Instead of blocking them out, I once again listened in, just as I had most of the day. Carlisle was wondering what Esme we dong in the garage, he thought perhaps she was visiting her mice. Esme's thoughts were on Carlisle, and in particular, the cross hidden in the corner.

She could hear him coming so she focussed on the washing she was hanging up. He was filled with glee when he saw her, and she was much the same. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, and whispered, "Hi."

She replied with a giggle, "Hello there."

"May I assist you in any way, m'lady?" He wondered.

"If you so desire, then yes you may," she handed him the box of wooden pegs, "You may help me hand the washing, kind sir."

They laughed and teased each other for a short while until Esme caught Carlisle gazing at the cross.

His eyes drifted to her curious face before he smiled, "You've never asked me about the cross before."

She shrugged, feigning indifference, "I didn't want to pry."

He shook his head, "You can ask anything you want love, for you I am an open book."

She smiled, "All right, will you tell me about it?"

He nodded and tugged her by the hand to the corner where, together they sat down on the haystacks, and I played close attention, but I was careful not to alert them to my prying ears. Although I generally tried to be as invasive as possible, I'd never heard this story told aloud before.

"The cross was carved by my father, years before my birth, and for as long as I can remember as a child it hung above the pulpit, and sometimes when the church was empty, I'd wander down and kneel before it to pray. There are very few times I've ever felt closer to the Lord than in those moments, so when my father perished, I couldn't leave it there. It was one of the only things I ever took, strange; I know it is, to carry a cross with me. For some years I hid it in safe places, where I would go to be alone with the Lord again, but I would never abandon it."

"Did your father teach you to carve?"

Carlisle nodded, "He did, but I've never been as accomplished as he."

"Do you have anything you've carved?"

He shook his head, "I haven't carved in years."

She was disappointed by this. She would have loved to see something carved by his hand. He could see this, so he resolved to carve a gift for her. He just wasn't quite sure what.

"I love your cross," she murmured.

He beamed, "You do?"

She nodded, "It's very…" She considered it thoughtfully, and then spoke the world that was resounding in both of their heads, "Peaceful."

"That's exactly how I feel."

She reached up a shy finger to trace the rim of his collar, "Do you wear a cross?" She wondered.

He shook his head, "One cross is enough. I have the Lord everywhere I go. If it ever fell out, no doubt the nurses would be sent into a fluster."

Esme laughed, "Oh, Mable, look! He's Godly too! Can anyone possible be better than Doctor Cullen?" She mocked the Ruby she imagined.

Carlisle burst into laughter and tickled her sides, "I wouldn't mind if it was _you _who was flustered over me. Then perhaps I would wear a cross and _make _it fall out."

"No need," Esme whispered, "I love you all ready."

And as their lips headed for each other, I withdrew and tried my very best to focus on the piano. I had little success.

They pulled away slowly, and Carlisle gave Esme a curious look, "Do you think the cross would make a good Christmas decoration?"

Her face lit up, "I think it would make the most beautiful addition to the house."

Moving to stand up, Carlisle grinned, "Then let's bring it in. Where do you want to hang it?"

"Above the fireplace? And we can put some candles on the shelf below it?"

"It sounds perfect."

He went to pick up the cross from the ground, but Esme reached out and caught his hand. He looked up at her quizzically, only to find tender loving eyes.

"Thank you," Esme murmured.

He cocked an eyebrow, "What for?"

She shrugged, "Just being you."

He beamed, and placed a kiss on her forehead, "It is my utmost pleasure, Miss Platt," he murmured before bending down to pick up the cross.

_Miss Platt,_ Esme blinked at Carlisle's watch as he picked up the cross, _I have 45 hours left of being Esme Platt…_

I could feel the nerves and anticipation in her thoughts, and I couldn't help but wonder exactly how I would feel two days before my own wedding… If ever I should have the privilege of falling in love.

* * *

_A.N. Hello my dearest readers, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thanks again for all of your lovely reviews, I do so adore them.  
The reason I had Edward narrate this chapter wasn't just because he's not going to feature heavily in the next... four or five chapters (and I think you can guess why that is.) But also because I wanted to just explore the chaos it would be in his younger years hearing all of these thoughts and memories and what-not. So for you guys who aren't the biggest Edward's POV fans, next three chapters are Esme POV (I'm most comfortable in her head), and for those of you who do love Edward - this one was for you :)  
Another Edward thing - I know my Edward is rather a 'happy' Edward, we'll definitley see his darker side in the future. I've always thought earlier on he'd be able to hide it better, but as time drew closer to his departure in '27, his facade would just crumble away to reveal the deep depression he exists in, and I do believe it would intensify over the years, perhaps halting a little at Emmett's creation (because Em is crazy fun) but deepen right up until 2005... But that's just me. I tend to be more comfortable writing characters who only have minimal roles and somewhat underdeveloped personalities in the books._

_I left a little clue in there as to what chapter the wedding would be, it's not very obvious... but I can tell you this to deflate your hopes, it's not next chapter... well... that really depends on what you classify as 'The Wedding'? ...Hmmmm._

_Oh, and just so we're all on the same page, the lovely Sara K M - who is an awesome history guru, reminded me that it wasn't common for men to wear wedding rings in 1921, so that's why we saw Carlisle at the jewelers again. _

_Also one more thing, if you're ever looking for other stories again, flick through my reviews, because some (most) of my reviewers are writers too! And they have some pretty awesome stories! _

_Enjoy! Much love x_


	44. Before

_Chapter Forty-Four: Before_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, December 1921_

_Esme_

The low afternoon sun threw haphazard beams of light through the full and flourishing evergreens, and the dead and dying deciduous trees of the forest that surrounded the small farmhouse with rotting weatherboard that I called home. The ever-present clouds muted it some, but it was still present, I could still see it. It was a bit like hope, sometimes when I was human I couldn't see a way out of the life that I was living, but I knew it was there. Even at night when the dark grey thunderclouds lingered above my head for what seemed like ions, I always knew the sun was there, I always knew hope was. I sat on the windowsill, listening to the scraping of pen on paper behind me, and the quiet breathing I'd become accustomed to, not to mention, fallen hopelessly in love with. The rest of the house was empty aside from that, there were no noises I could hear, no creaking floorboard or whispered footstep, no crackling radio or fluid piano. Just writing and breathing, that was all. Edward was out in Mason, finalising musical scores and delivering flowers, he was overworked, but definitely not underpaid. Carlisle and I showered him in our attention, so much so, the moments my love and I had alone seemed to be few and far between. This was destined to change, and the time wasn't far away at all. Tonight was my last night of being Esme Platt. Tomorrow I would be the first and only Mrs. Carlisle Cullen. The thought made my heart bubble with joy.

I harboured some foolish questions about my time as Mrs. Cullen, such as, would the sunset be more beautiful tomorrow night? Would the sunrise take my breath away instead of leaving me a little to spare? And how could life get any better than it was right then, sitting in the study with the love of my life behind me?

I hoped the foolish questions didn't have foolish answers, because some part of me thought tomorrow would change everything… and tomorrow night, well…

I knew enough of the man I loved to be sure that my experience with him would not be reminiscent of the memories that haunted me in my darkest hours. I was fairly certain my nights with Carlisle would be what I'd always dreamed of. I was glad that I couldn't blush, _and _that Edward wasn't within hearing range when I admitted that to myself. What we would spend our time doing after our wedding would be a masterpiece; the darkness would be my canvas and his love would be my paint. Excitement and anticipation were almost strong enough to rid my body of nervousness, but not quite.

I listened intently to the scraping of the pan behind me. Carlisle wrote quickly, pressing down on his pen harder than he had before, I'd come to learn exactly what this meant. He was nearing finish, and rushing to get there. I turned my head to face him and smiled. He was bent over the desk, working intently. His collar-length blonde hair would have been falling in his eyes. Had I been able to see the front of him, I may have sauntered up to him, and interrupted by showering him in kisses. He was getting more and more irresistible as the days passed. The chair creaked slightly as Carlisle put his pen down and turned to face me. He caught my eye quickly, and his smile lit up his whole face that only ever made my heart fly higher.

"Cold feet, yet?" He wondered teasingly.

I lifted one up and dangled it to the side; he caught it quickly and held it in both of his warm hands.

"To the world, they're frozen, but I personally think that they're nice and warm. Especially the one you're holding," I grinned.

He chuckled in his deep bass that vibrated through my whole body, and placed a loving kiss on the top of my stocking-clothed foot.

"Mmm, very warm. Do you have ticklish feet?" He raised one cheeky eyebrow, and I desperately wanted to lie in reply, but I couldn't manage it. Instead I bit the inside of my lip and tried my darndest not to smile.

He chuckled quietly to himself and ran the tips of his fingers over the underside of my feet, sending me into fits of giggles. I trashed in my seat on the ledge of the windowsill, laughing out, "No!" between giggles. To his credit the first time he heard me protest, he stopped.

He gazed at me cautiously, so I returned the gaze, but lovingly, and managed to crawl from my windowsill seat onto his lap in the chair. He helped me, of course, while quietly chuckling to himself. As I came to kneel on his lap, I reached both of my hands up to his face, and repetitively ran my fingers through his hair, never once breaking my loving gaze.

I sighed, "Is it even possible to say how much I love you?"

He beamed, and placed his hands on either side of my waist, "If it's anything as much as I love you, then I'm going to go ahead and say no."

I raised an eyebrow, and let a little smirk spread across my lips, "Is that a challenge, dear Doctor?"

A mischievous lopsided grin formed on his face, "Maybe it is… I have an idea, do you want to go hunting now?" He wondered. We'd been planning on going once Edward returned home, but the boy had gone out into the forest earlier, effectively ending that plan.

I shrugged, not quite sure how a hunt related to expressions of love, "I don't see why not."

"Good." He wrapped his arms tightly around me and stood up, carrying me with him, and causing more giggles to erupt from my throat. "Off we go!" He headed for the sitting room.

"Shouldn't I change?" I wondered between giggles.

He shook his head, "I like this dress."

"As do I, wouldn't it be better for me to wear something else? I don't want to ruin it."

"I'll give you another challenge, my little apple." He announced as he carried me through the living room and into the hallway, "Try your best not to get this one dirty, I think you'll want clean clothes for the event commencing subsequent to our hunt."

I gazed at him quizzically as he made his way through the kitchen, "Do I at least get shoes?"

He smirked, "Hunting boots are outside, aren't they?"

I grinned and shook my head, "I see what you're doing."

His fake innocence only served to confirm my suspicions, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're creating a mystery for me, and leaving me clues."

He set be down beside the spot where we kept our hunting boots and handed me my ugly, tiny ones before bending down to put his own ones on.

"What ones have you got so far?"

I laughed freely, "So you're not denying it," I slipped the horrible shoes on, "We're going some place that demands I wear a nice dress and not dribble my dinner down," he laughed, but I continued, "But this place cares nothing for my choice of footwear."

He nodded, finishing tying his laces, and straightening up, "That sounds about right. Want some help?"

I flicked him a grin, "I can tie shoelaces, Carlisle."

He shrugged, "So can I."

His cheekiness alerted me to something mischievous going on, so I let my eyes drop to his feet, where he had tied his two shoes together.

I tried not to laugh, but as per usual, I failed upon seeing his proud boyish grin. I shook my head adoringly at him, and he finally bent down to fix his shoes. I loved seeing this side of Carlisle, it was the side he reserved solely for me.

When we were ready, he took my hand with infinite care and wearing his adorable boyish grin. We flew through the forest to our favourite hunting spot where the deer never learned any better than to return once we were gone. It was no surprise that there were herds and herds of them grazing on the grass.

Carlisle gestured for me to go first, ever the gentleman, I suspected his motives weren't always selfless though; perhaps he enjoyed watching me hunt as much as I enjoyed watching him. I took down my first deer and the flock fled, but I heard my companion catch one before they were all gone. Once our first deer were drained we chased the other scattered and frightened animals until we were both too full for anymore. My newborn appetite was beginning to wane at nearly nine months old, now I only needed to drink as much as Carlisle, less than Edward. The boys seemed to think due to my body mass being smaller, my need for blood would also be. Edward drank the most out of all of us; Carlisle accredited that to the age at which he was changed at, because Edward was smaller than the blonde doctor, not in height, but in mass. Carlisle had more muscle… not that I'd been looking…

"What are you grinning about?" Carlisle wondered as we ran, "If I have blood on my face, please tell me."

I laughed, "You don't. I was just thankful that I don't drink double the amount that you do anymore. It's terribly unladylike."

He chuckled, and squeezed my hand, "I found it oddly attractive, mind you, I like everything you do. It must be a mate thing." I watched his eyes glazed over slightly, as he began to ponder again. Carlisle had many thinking faces; I particularly liked the one he wore right then, when he was thinking about something that didn't have a straightforward or definable answer. I left him to his thoughts, as my own gleefully repeated his last words. He'd only indirectly called me his mate once before, and it awakened some proud vampire side of me, it started off quite comically really.

_I wandered into the bathroom to get new linen from the cupboard when something blue in the sink caught my eye. Confused, I walked over to it, and picked it up. I let out a little laugh when I recognised it as one of Carlisle's work ties._

"_Carlisle?" I called, walking toward the doorway, where he appeared instantly._

"_Yes lo – oh." He laughed awkwardly seeing the fabric in my hands, "Sorry about that."_

_I pursed my lips and tried not to laugh, picturing him taking it off and just throwing it in the air, "Should I even ask how it managed to get there?" I wondered._

_He ran his hand through his hair and laughed, "I was in a rush to get changed when Edward asked if I would help him with the car… I thought I picked it all up but… obviously not."_

_I pursed my lips, trying to hide the amusement, "So everything just went…" I motioned throwing things in the air._

_He grinned and nodded, "Everything just went…" he copied my actions, and I giggled._

"_You're unbelievable," I murmured, "Would you like me to put in the washing basket?"_

"_I can do it," he reached for the tie, "Does it annoy you?" He wondered._

_I laughed again and shook my head, "I would think so, but no, it doesn't."_

_He beamed, "It must be a mate thing."_

"You're away with the fairies again," his deep voice teased. My head whipped around to look at him grinning at me, in his breathtaking way.

I slowed our run, and he complied instantly, gazing at me quizzically. I stepped toward him when we'd stopped running, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. Reflexively he wrapped his arms around me too. He seemed to catch onto my mood pretty quickly, but perhaps it was his mood too, he bent down and nuzzled my nose with his own.

"I've missed this," I sighed, "With all the wedding planning, we've not had hardly any time alone."

"Mmm," he nodded, and ghosted kisses along my cheekbones.

"Don't get me wrong, I love Edward, but… I love this too," I whispered.

"Alone time is important," he murmured, kissing down my cheek toward my lips. The slow trail was tortuous, but when his lips finally claimed mine it was worth it.

He pulled away seconds later only to whisper, "Naturally, I feel the same way."

The deep baritone of his voice proved to be all too much for me, as I stepped a little closer and kissed him with all I had. He kissed me back with just as much vigour, and next thing I knew, we were all over the place. My hands were threading themselves through his hair again, my back was pressed up against a tree trunk, my legs were heading for his waist, his arms were my only support, holding me close to him – safely, securely. My senses were saturated, I could take no more of his smell or taste; I was very nearly in the most heavenly place I'd ever found myself it. Until, of course, he pulled away. He rested his forehead on mine, his eyes were closed and his breathing was heavy, I could tell he was trying to calm himself. I needed to do that too, but unlike him, I didn't _want_ to… I probably did, but I couldn't think straight.

When he deemed himself calm enough, I'd calmed down a lot too, he opened his eyes and gave me an apologetic look, and he disentangled my legs from his body.

I hopped down happily, and reached up on my tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek, hoping to dissolve any apologies on the tip of his tongue for kissing me in the way women hardly ever admit to dreaming about.

I grabbed his hand, and skipped forward. He chuckled a little bemusedly, and caught up so I was not dragging him behind me.

"You're not going to let me apologise, are you?" He wondered.

"Will you let _me_ apologise?" I countered.

He shook his head, "No."

So I shook my head, "Then, no. We have roughly twenty hours until I _expect_ you to kiss me like that again," I winked at him, I turned around and gave him my best alluring grin, running my hands over his shoulders as I ran backwards.

He groaned, "Please turn around and keep running or I fear I will do something that I will come to regret."

I laughed, but complied to his request, "And what might that be?" I wondered innocently.

"Kiss you like that again!" He laughed, "Like an animal…" He trailed off.

"Like an animal?" I prompted after some time, but he didn't reply, "Was that, 'like an animal kisses his mate,' perhaps?"

He closed his eyes and chuckled, "You're dangerous. Did you know that?"

"I try my best," I winked.

"How about we change the subject?" He suggested hopefully, looking up to the sky, "The sun looks like it's about to set. Would you like to watch it?"

I pursed my lips in consideration, after all, I did love sunsets. I nodded, "From the treetops?"

"Of course," he gestured toward the nearest tree, "Ladies first?"

"Wait until I'm up," I cautioned, and he nodded, "You know, it's our last sunset before we're married..." I murmured.

He grinned, "It certainly is."

"Our last night of having boundaries…" I teased.

"_Esme! _What has gotten into you?" His tone was surprised, but his face was delighted.

I had another witty and inappropriate thing to say, but I decided against it, and merely laughed cryptically before scaling the tree. I reached the top moments before he arrived up, his blonde hair appearing through the brown branches of the dead tree we'd chosen to climb. He was still grinning, and when I caught his eye he just shook his head fondly at me.

"Admit it, you were thinking something along those lines too," I teased.

He took his seat next to me and shook his head, "I'll not start admitting to thoughts I've thought."

I raised a challenging eyebrow, "You know, when I'm your wife you'll have no reason to hide it from me."

He pursed his lips to try and stop himself from laughing, and turned to watch the sun, which was low in the sky.

To me, Wisconsin sunsets were the perfect kind of sunsets. The light pink mixed so perfectly with the faint orange to create a hue that was perfectly balanced even to my critical eye. My favourite thing about Wisconsin sunsets were the way they coloured my Carlisle's hair, and reflected out of his golden eyes. It was never a strange thing to find his attention on me while I watched the sun setting beneath the horizon, but I was curious to know if he was aware that my attention was always on him. I turned my face directly to him, and met his gaze. I could still see the pinks and the oranges in the corner of his golden eyes. He smiled gently down at me, and I reached up to play with the sunset in his hair. He closed his eyes and breathed out in relaxation. We stayed like that for a long time, until the pinks and oranges turned to blues and purples, finally being consumed by a rich deep blue, which was very nearly black to my vampire eyes. I watched it all happen to his hair, and I knew for certain that he felt it all.

I knew he was ready to take me wherever he'd planned when he opened his eyes, for they were filled with so much light, the sun would have been envious if it were still in the sky. I could always count on Carlisle replacing the sun when it went to visit the other side of the world.

"Will you tell me where we're going?" I murmured, and he nodded.

"To church."

I beamed back at him; excited to go now I knew where we were headed. He could tell this, so chuckling; he stood up and offered his hand even though he knew I didn't need it. Carlisle Cullen would always be a gentleman, no matter how impractical it may be.

We didn't bother climbing down the tree, instead, we merely jumped of the edge, hand in hand. When our feet hit the ground we were off and running.

The forest was quieter in the night time; the diurnal animals had all drifted off to their respective homes and the nocturnal animals had long fled from our quiet footsteps.

We made it to the church quickly in our eagerness, and I had come to the conclusion that Carlisle and I were going to throw our own private wedding to see if we could verbalise the love we felt for one another. Although I thought it impossible, the gesture was one of the sweetest I'd ever come across.

The church was the same as the last time we'd seen it, nestled in it's little clearing at the bottom of the hill, still crumbling and being overtaken by wayward plants. The roof of vines and leaves still looked in tact, and the moss on the steps was completely untouched. We slowed our pace and wandered forward, swinging our arms between us. We climbed the green steps, and Carlisle opened the remaining half of the wooden door that hung in the archway. The fairytale of my dreams that crumbled before my eyes would serve to be the place where one portion of my happily ever after began, and I loved that.

Just inside the door, Carlisle stopped, and dropped my hand, holding his arm out for mine instead. I looped mine through, grinning at him, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Ready?" He wondered.

I nodded definitely, "Ready."

Together, arm in arm; we slowly made our way down the crumbling aisle with the stray vines and falling leaves. He made sure I never once tripped on any loose rock, or unruly plant, and in turn, I made sure I never let go. The beauty of the moment was not lost on me, for I was not a bride walking to meet her husband, but rather, I was a woman, walking with the man she loved, to enter into our joint forever _together._ The soundtrack of our march was the whipping wind, the creaking door, and the footprints of curious creatures in the wood, which at any moment, if their natural instinct wasn't to run from our scent, I imagined would pop their heads through the cracks in the stone, and watch as we wed. I could hear a sweet piano playing in my head, the man on the moon was nearly as good a pianist as Edward. I could see my parents smiling from the front row, my mother had tears rolling down her face and I could tell that she was so proud of me. The moment was utterly beautiful, but that could be accredited to one thing, and one thing only: The man by my side. _This,_ I thought, _This is the meaning of life. _Reminding myself to leave the sentimentality until my vows, I focussed on the small step I was required to climb to reach the altar. In true gentlemanly fashion, Carlisle helped me up. We walked a few more steps until we were perfectly positioned where we would wed, with God as our only aficionado, and a crumbling church as our house, Carlisle took both my hands in his, and murmured in his deep baritone, with a proud smile upon his face, "Who gives this woman to be married to this man?"

I took a deep breath, and straightened my back with pride to justly deliver one of my most meaningful lines, "I do." My vampire voice ran out loud and clear, my pride made my words into a song.

His smile nearly reached from one ear to the other, "Good," he murmured in a very satisfied tone, "Shall we skip the formalities and head straight to the vows?"

I chuckled at his eagerness, but since my own rivalled his, I nodded, "I think so, yes."

"Ladies first?" He proposed kindly, in the way the made my insides flip with joy.

Bashfully, I shook my head, and he nodded, coming to save me like I knew he always would. He didn't need to make me any promises out loud anymore, that simple unspoken gesture was all I would ever need, and he'd already given it to me. Why did we bother with the formalities? I wished he'd just kiss me and be done with it.

But his words meant more than I ever thought they would.

"Esme Anne Platt," he murmured, his voice was as soft as a summer's breeze, "I remember everything I did on the day that you were born, just as I remember every day I have lived since I was transformed, and nothing about that day was extraordinary, but it was the most extraordinary of them all, because it was the day you made your way into this world." He pondered his words for a short moment, but then shook his head, "What I mean to say is that, I wasn't doing anything extraordinary, but God was.

"You see, you turned my world upside down, you turned my doubts into certainties, my insecurities into strengths, my hopes into realities and you set my world on fire. You bring out every irrationality that I once feared, and you have taught me how to love them. You taught me how to love myself like I love you.

"Now, I am certain we have souls, for how could I possibly love you as much as I do, if I did not have one?" He shook his head in complete confusion, his soft hair fell in his eyes, and so he blew it out in the way that always filled me with a compulsion to cover him in kisses. "If I could truly speak the way I feel, I'd write the words all over you, but you are the blank paper I have stared at for hours, because words don't mean anything anymore. I figure though, that all I have to do is write a single sentence, and write the truth. So I came up with one true single sentence that I endeavour to write all over you, my darling blank paper… _I love you._" My heart was flying by then but it must have left something behind, because there was something stuck in my throat. I didn't want to weep, but I didn't know if I could keep it in. "I've loved you before, I love you now, and I will love you forever. That is not a promise, but rather a statement of fact. You are my light, my love, my world – my everything. You have the universe in your eyes, little apple, did you know that? You are all I will ever need, and I know now, that when the birds sing, they're singing for you. When the flowers bloom, they're blooming for you. When the sun shines, it's shining for you. When I breathe, I'm breathing for you. When I care, I'm caring for you. When I think, I'm thinking of you. This will be how it is forever, and that's another fact. So how do I make promises when everything I want to promise is true? Perhaps our vows aren't destined to be promises, but rather unbelievably precise predictions of the future.

"So I vow to often pick my socks up off of the floor, and sometimes leave my ties in the sink. I vow to never be miffed if you insist on wearing your hair up even though I'd die to see it down, and to remind you how much I love you every single day. I vow to never leave for work without saying goodbye, and have the serious talks with Edward when you're too shy. I vow to always lose even if I win, and to always take you on glorious adventures. I vow to always take the day off if you need me to, and leave you to you 'me time' when you need it too.

"It is because of these truths, and so much more that I shall love you forever, my darling. 'One half of me is yours, the other half yours - Mine own, I would say; but if mine, then yours, And so all yours' _forever._"

I was a complete wreck by then, a happy wreck, an _ecstatic _wreck, but still a wreck. I sobbed and laughed, and smiled, and furrowed my brow in annoyance at myself. He squeezed my hands and grinned down at me, in such a way that made me sob even harder. His heart was so much more beautiful than his face but his face was truly something from the Gods.

I squeezed his hands back, as I tried to steady my emotions, I was required to speak next, and I desired to do that coherently, not in garbled mess that even I couldn't understand.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. When I'd resumed a somewhat hold on my emotions I opened them again. Carlisle's grinning face was the first thing that I saw, and his happiness made me smile, gaining enough control to finally speak.

"Carlisle Cullen," I beamed, and he beamed back, "My dearest doctor," I let out a laugh, "How many times have I dreamed of using that salutation? Far too many, I'll admit, but yet, not enough. Why is it, that after all these years since we met in Ohio, when I think gentle, or good, kind or compassionate, my mind locks on to the memory of your face? When I think of everything beautiful, first I should see the Earth, spring flowers, spruce trees, and skies so big I realize I can not fathom how large the universe is, but first I see your eyes, gold and bright, your smile, warm and genuine, your hair, wild and perfect, your hands, cold and caring, your laugh, butterfly worthy and heavenly. Just _you_.

"Now I'm not one to believe in fate, or destiny, or the future being written in the stars but if ever I could have chosen a future, I would have always chosen you. How lucky am I then, to have you choose me too? Far too lucky to believe. Despite my lack of faith in fate, I always thought our meeting in Ohio was part of something bigger, and if that reason was only to tell me that I must not settle for anything, but rather, fight for what I dreamed, that would have been okay with me. I would have walked into the future basking in the fact that I was lucky enough to meet you. That's not the case though, for here we are. Not only have I met you, but I have come to know you, I love you and I know what it is to be loved by you, but most importantly, I will walk into the future beside you, and that never has to change.

"So I vow to be, first and foremost, a friend, loyal and unyielding. I will stand by you in all that we may face, or perhaps behind you, if you need someone to take your flanks. I will love you and care for you until the day comes that I do not exist, and then I shall find a way to continue on if possible, even if impossible, and I'll still love you then. Finally, but not least importantly, I vow to always be what you need, a crying shoulder, a listening ear, a helping hand, and someone who will always be there. I vow to never judge and always love, to leave a light on when you're due home in the dark, and to favour irrationality when you need to be balanced out. I vow to always scare off the nurses when they're flirting too much, and to always be your biggest supporter. I vow to ask you to try everything that I cook and am unsure about, and listen to everything medical, even if I don't understand it. Forever, I vow to love you.

"Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love," I grinned up at him, and whispered my next word, "_Forever."_

Before he – as the pastor – gave himself instruction, before he – as the pastor – pronounced us man and wife, before even I – as the doting bride – was prepared, his hands we cupping my face, and his lips were on mine. Unprepared as I was, I was most certainly not unwilling. I joined the kiss with as much vigour – if not more – than he began it with. Our kiss was not chaste, as one should be when sealing vows, but rather, it was reminiscent of the animal we'd indulged just hours earlier. Our lips joined and danced in an almost primal way, that left me aching for more when he finally pulled away. Knowing he'd not refuse me what I wanted, I reached up on my tiptoes before he could speak, and started it all over again. This time his hands did not cradle my face, but rather, they wrapped themselves around my waist, and mapped the contours of my back, as my own hands threaded through his soft feathery hair.

Like our courtship, our makeshift first wedding was not a proper thing that my mother would have approved of, but it was perfect for us. It was one part animal, two parts gentle, and a million parts _real_.

When he ended our kiss in the sweetest way possible, we gazed in each others eyes for an immeasurable amount of time underneath a canopy of leaves and stars, standing with silence and in each other's arms, it was the perfect way to close one chapter of our lives, and open another – the best one we could have ever dared to dream of, the one that would last _forever_.

* * *

_Hours Later_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, December 3__rd__ 1921_

_Esme_

We arrived home shortly after midnight, to a smirking Edward standing in the kitchen doorway.

"It's bad luck for the happy couple to see each other before the wedding," he teased.

Carlisle grinned up at him, "I don't believe in simple _luck_ Edward, my son."

The boy laughed, and shook his head, "Everything is ready for tomorrow, by the way," he called out as he entered the old weatherboard house, "If you still want to have an official wedding, that is."

I shook my head fondly at my son, "If you want to play that card," I murmured as Carlisle and I walked up the porch steps, "It's not technically 'official' in the legal sense."

Edward laughed from inside the kitchen, "No, exactly, because you're both dead. Imagine the human's faces if you wrote down your true age, Carlisle. They'd think that you're a cradle-robber, and Esme's a gold digger."

Carlisle sighed, "When you're my age, Edward, time won't mean a thing to you either."

Edward shrugged, as Carlisle and I entered the kitchen, "Fair enough," he started humming some jazz tune as he disappeared into the hallway.

"We'd better not have any of that _jazz _at the wedding, Edward," Carlisle murmured.

"Esme likes that _jazz_." Edward retorted, and Carlisle looked to me. I shrugged, causing him to laugh, and wrap me in my arms.

Just as he was leaning down for a kiss, the shrill ring of the telephone interrupted us.

Carlisle sighed, "I should probably answer that."

I nodded, "You probably should," I reached up and placed another kiss upon his cheek before he dashed out of the small kitchen, and down the hallway. I followed slowly, listening to his half of the conversation.

"Good morning," he said in a believably tired tone, "Doctor Cullen speaking."

Someone mumbled something on the other end of the line, "How many?" Carlisle asked, more alert now.

I reached the sitting room and looked at Edward, who was lounging on the couch nearest the Christmas tree, _Hospital? _I wondered, and he nodded.

I dashed to the study, and leaned against the archway, watching Carlisle's conflicted face.

He glanced at me for reassurance and so I smiled.

"Go," I told him, "The world needs you. Just make sure you're at the church by one."

'Thank you,' he mouthed, 'Thank you, I love you.' He let the person on the other end of the line finish what they were saying, before he assured them that he would be in promptly, "I'll head in now. Good day."

He put the phone down gently and turned back to me, "Esme, I'm so sorry."

I shook my head, "Remember what Edward said? It's bad luck for you to see me before the wedding. Take your suit, just in case they keep you for a long amount of time."

"Are you sure?" He wondered dubiously.

I grinned, and wandered over to him, I placed my hands on either side of his face, "Tomorrow I am going to be your wife. You are a doctor. This is what a doctor's wife does." I placed a kiss on his cheek, "I love you."

He cupped my face in his hands and pulled me in for a quick, but passionate kiss.

"I love you too," he whispered fervently when he pulled away, his breath blew all over my face in the most intoxicating way, "I love you so much. Thank you."

I chuckled lightly, "You know, you've nothing to thank me for."

He grinned and ghosted kissed all over my face before finally letting me go, "Au contraire," he murmured, reaching behind him to grab his medical bag, "I have _everything _to thank you for."

With that, and a quick dash upstairs to get changed, he was gone. As I listened to the engine roar, and the tyres roll down the gravel driveway it occurred to me that the next time I would see him, he'd be mere moments away from being my husband.

It vaguely registered in my mind that Edward was chuckling at my thoughts, as I imagined telling my sixteen-year-old self of her fate.

Impatience flood through my body, so I sprinted up the stairs and into my room. I _had _to try my wedding dress on again. Twelve hours, I told myself, _twelve hours._

* * *

_The Very Same Day_

_A Small Little Forest, Tennessee/Virginia border, December 1921_

She sped through the forest like an arrow, but with the grace and finesse of the finest Russian ballerinas. No one could run quite like she could. Her eyes glazed over, and refocussed time and time again, she was searching for something with her peculiar little gift.

"No," she sang, "Not that," her words were so melodious, she made them into a song, "No. Not him. No. Not her. No. Not them. Not today. Not tonight. That can wait, because it's time! It's time! It's time!"

She scaled the nearest tree trunk, and climbed it right to the top, before she propelled herself off of it with glee, spinning around in pretty little twirls. She hit the ground silently and was off dancing again. Quicker than a bullet, or a cheetah, but not Edward. No one was quicker than Edward. She beamed when she found a rugged rock to perch on, and rubbed together her tiny little hands.

She raised a fist to her mouth and cleared her throat theatrically as though she had an audience of a thousand people watching on.

"Together with their families, Esme Anne Platt, and Carlisle Cullen, request the honour of your presence at the celebration of their marriage, on Saturday, the third of December, nineteen twenty-one, at one o'clock in the afternoon. 45 Nineteenth Street, Mason, Wisconsin."

Somehow her grin grew larger as she sat there on the boulder, and the black haired pixie smoothed out her favourite dress that she stole from a washing line. It was the best one she'd ever taken, but she needed a lovely dress for the occasion. She took a deep breath, sat up straighter and her eyes blurred over as though she was seeing something very far away… and she was.

"Today's the day!" She whispered, "Finally,_ it's time_."

* * *

_A.N. The end of E&amp;C's vows are quotes from Shakespeare Esme's was Hamlet, and Carlisle's was the Merchant of Venice. Like Twilight, I don't claim to own them :)_

_Okay, so I owe you guys a bit of an apology... Next week my family is whisking me away for a surprise birthday trip and I won't be able to update... so the wedding won't be posted until Sunday/Mondayish the week after... and I know that's ages to __wait but hopefully it will be worth it._

_I haven't had time to reply to any reviews either - but I will! Don't worry! I'll get there._

_I hope you guys enjoyed this, and I'm really excited about the wedding, so I hope the birthday trip (which I am 99% sure will see me camped out in the middle of a rainforest with snakes, spiders and crocodiles) leaves me some time to handwrite it all out, so I can type it up when I get __back and post it for you all as quick as possible!  
_

_Anyway, I put some new announcements on my profile about the Faith &amp; Love **sequel **and there's a new poll there if you want to check that out. Also - if you've got some more time, check out Sara K M's new story 'The Man Behind The Mask,' about how Charlie Swan came to know and respect Carlisle. (It was my first time beta-ing a story! :D )_

_Much love x_


	45. The Wedding

_Chapter Forty-Five: The Wedding_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, December 1921_

_Esme_

I had eyes trained on my back, I was fully aware of this, as I sat on the plush stool at my dressing table, running my fingers gingerly over the ornate carving of my grandparents' box. The eyes on my back wanted very much for me to turn around I'm sure, but my attention was mostly upon a memory I so greatly desired to resurface. My box held a secret and I no longer accepted that it should stay that way.

"I do doubt staring at it will get the secrets out," Edward murmured from the doorway.

"Then what is it you suggest I do?" I queried, "And why do you and your father insist upon lingering in the doorway?"

"I daresay he won't linger in the doorway after today," he joked.

"But will you?" I raised a challenging eyebrow.

"Linger in the doorway? Yes. I shall indeed. Forever."

I let out a humourless laugh, but grinned up at my son, in the mirror, "A very well mannered young man you are then. You do have my permission to enter, though."

He offered up his lopsided grin – much more sarcastic than his father's cheeky one, as he came to stand behind me.

"Did you check the rims around the edge?"

I couldn't help the smirk that spread across my face, "If I had, you'd know."

He pursed his lips and nodded, "Yes, I seem to recall you sitting down and pondering the thing. Nothing else."

"And you're suggesting I do something constructive?"

Edward laughed, nodding, "That's exactly what I'm suggesting." He placed a hand on my shoulder, "It's nearing eight thirty, I'm going to head into Washburn, should I run or take the new car?" He wondered.

"Take the car, but make sure you drive the back streets, and park a way away from the shops."

The boys had invested in a brand new, and very shiny vehicle for Edward to use when he left for Chicago. I also suspected that we would be leaving Ashland in the same car, hence why it was a secret and not to be driven around town, but neither man had denied or confirmed my suspicions. I was fairly convinced that Carlisle did not want to bring the topic of leaving Ashland to me quite yet. I wasn't entirely sure why, but I figured he must be thinking we needed to leave soon, for I doubt Edward could go very long without showing off his new car. I understood next to nothing about motor vehicles, and I liked my knowledge being near nil, but the boy's excitement was nearly impossible to deny when they arrived home after placing an order for it from Indianpolis. The car was something called a Duesenberg, and that was all I knew. It arrived not very long after, which I was surprised at, but I realised the boys probably paid extra to have a quick delivery. It was a rich, dark green and everything about it shined. The boys were nearly jumping with excitement when it arrived.

Edward chuckled quietly at the memory, and then he bent down and placed a kiss upon my head, "I hope to see the secret of the box discovered by the time I get back."

I let a laugh escape my lips, "As do I," I murmured in reply.

He laughed quietly as he turned around and left. I listened intently to the sound of the Duesenberg on the gravel driveway, bidding my beloved son a safe trip. I'd already memorised the difference between the Cadillac and the Duesenberg's engines and wheels, I knew someday soon I'd come to love the sound of the latter as it pulled into our driveway, but for now, Carlisle still took the Cadillac to work, so it's sound held the monopoly of my heartstrings.

I sighed quietly to myself and turned back to the box that lay before me in the gentle light that poured through the window to my right. The day had begun dreary and cloudy, and perfectly rain-less, it seemed as though it would remain that way for the rest of the day, and I was unbelievably excited about that. Everything was coming together well. I ran my hands over the sides of the wooden box, remembering the tiny little white cardboard box sitting on my bed. It was one of the two wedding gifts from the Fortendue women. Although Carlisle and I insisted that we couldn't take their gifts, they forced them upon us. One was for me – before the wedding, and the other was for us – after the wedding. I was slightly nervous as to what they were, and feeling very guilty for not inviting the women who had truly become like friends to me. They were nicer to me than any of my so-called 'friends' had been when I was human. Another pang of guilt struck my heart, then my fingers found an inconsistency in the wood at the bottom of the box. My brow furrowed and I forgot all about the guilt; as I bent down to examine the wood in greater detail. It looked as though there was a tiny drawer there…

I ran my hands along the wood once more, but couldn't find a way to open it. So I opened the lid and listened carefully to the click as the locking mechanism disengaged. I repeated the motion a few times to be sure that I wasn't hearing two distinct clicks just because I wanted to. With the lid open, I decided to try the draw again, and much to my surprise, it succumbed to the slight pressure of my fingertips. I pushed it in, and it pushed itself out a little afterwards. I grinned to myself; it hadn't taken my vampire mind too long to figure that one out at all.

I pulled out the drawer and found a great deal many little old envelopes, scattered across the wooden floor of the secret compartment. Gingerly, I reached up for the first one, it was simply entitled _Esme _in a delicate, and elegant script I was very familiar with – My grandmother's. I lay it to the side and picked up another, _Our Darling Esme on her Eighteenth Birthday, _before I knew it, I was picking up every single envelope that I could see, searching for one I knew would be in there. I found it not long after, the envelope entitled '_On Your Wedding Day,' _was sitting directly on top of one '_To the Man She Marries.' _I made a mental note to give it to Carlisle after the wedding, before the honeymoon began, but for now, I gently tore open the one especially for this occasion.

My grandmother's familiar handwriting covered the page in black ink.

'_To our dearest Esme, on your wedding day,'_ it read, _'Congratulations! If today you are walking down the aisle it must mean you have finally found a kindred sprit worth the love you have to give. What a lucky man he is. My darling you must promise yourself something; that you will never settle for what your mother thinks is best, but rather strive for your wildest dreams. You have a worth beyond words, a worth that it so extraordinary, you delight all who you meet with your unparalleled love, and that is a gift that must be nurtured and never taken advantage of. You must ensure that you, yourself, cherish it. For the first step to loving someone else, is to love _yourself_. Then my dear, you know the rules, you must be loved, and you must love truly, sincerely and passionately, just as we love you, my darling. It is then that you will live. You will live such an extraordinary and full life, you will not recognise yourself or anything else, and living freely, wildly and vividly will be second nature to you, you will not even know you are doing such a thing, it will be as easy as breathing. Just exactly how loving should be. _

'_Whether we are there with you in body, or spirit, darling, you must rest assured; we will be there for you today – in the front row, as always, your biggest supporters._

'_With all of our love,_

_Gramma, and Pop.'_

I read the letter over and over again, before laying it down gently and staring at the foreign golden eyes of the vampire in the mirror.

Could it be possible that they would be proud of me today? After everything I'd done, after all I'd been through? The answer was blindingly obvious to me. No. No, could not be possible, because it was definite. I was certain that, should it be possible for them to be aware of the course my life had taken since their death, they would be bursting with pride, because that is how I would be if I were them.

The pale-faced, golden-eyed beauty in the mirror lifted her hand to her caramel curls, which had been given special attention in the past hours, turning them from a mostly-wavy-mess-that-sometimes-ringlets-at-the-bottom to perfect circular curls and dainty front finger waves. There was not a single flaw in her face, thanks to the vampire venom that flowed through her veins, so it was nearly impossible to miss her beauty. Her eyes were a deep warm gold, but alive with bright excitement, her dimples revealed themselves when her pink lips turned up into a small smile, and her thin eyebrows lifted with an innocence that miraculously still remained after being stolen away years before. Yes, she was beautiful, but she was so much more than that.

I watched her in the mirror as I pinned the perfect curls up at the back of my head into a design I had daydreamed about. My mind drifted to Carlisle as I worked in the silent house. I wondered what he was doing, how he was going, and if he missed me. With the amount of extra space that a vampire had in their mind to think, I knew that I was always on his mind, as he was always on mine. There was a strange beauty in that.

I secured the curls with brown pins, a shade too dark for my light brown hair, but I'm sure I hid them masterfully. If my mother taught me anything, it was how to do my hair nicely. Now, that had been something that I was good at, although I was rarely ever bothered to do it.

Once my hair was pinned up, and the finger waves were securely placed where they looked best, the lady in the mirror disappeared as I turned around to my bed and jumped off the stool. I grabbed the little present from the Fortendue's and examined it closely. It was a white box with a white ribbon wrapped around it. Shaking the box, I heard fabric hit against the sides.

I pulled the end of the ribbon, and gently took the lid off of the box. A giggle escaped my lips and I silently thanked my lucky stars that Edward wasn't hope to witness his mother unwrapping a frilly, lace garter. I placed it back in the box, and left it next to my gown. There was no way Carlisle would take it off anywhere but at our honeymoon location, but I would wear it none-the-less. It was part of the fun of it all.

As I glided back to the dressing table I heard the Duesenberg's tyres on the driveway, so I mentally welcomed Edward home. My excitement grew with every second; finally I would see my floral headpiece.

I looked to the small clock on my dresser, it read quarter to ten, and I wondered where the time had gone. It was so easy to lose track of it all, when it meant such a different thing to you. Edward parked the car out of the front of the house. In less than two hours we'd be heading out to Mason, so there was little point in putting it away. We'd have to hide the car somewhere before Gregson could see it though, I thought to myself.

"Got it covered," Edward murmured, and I listened to him grabbing things from the car. I considered going down to help him but he laughed and assured me that he didn't need any help.

Soon after closing the door, Edward appeared in my doorway, holding a beautiful cascading bouquet in one hand, a very full looking paper bag in the other, and wearing a floral headband that looked very lovely against his wayward bronze locks.

"The next place we live, you and I will have to pretend to be related. We look more alike than Carlisle and I. Your hair has a little ginger in it…"

I laughed, and walked over to him to grab my headpiece from atop his head, "It sounds like a good idea."

"I'll be your little brother," he flicked me a wink, and placed the bouquet on the bed, reaching over to look at the little white box, "What's this?" he wondered, fingering the lid.

I smirked at his curiosity, and decided to tell him the truth, "A garter."

Her scrunched up his face and flicked me a thumbs up, "Thank you, mother dearest. Thank you."

I laughed and shrugged, coming to sit in front of the mirror once again, "You asked, my darling."

He sighed, and nodded, coming up to stand behind me as I fixed the band of flowers behind my ears.

"It looks beautiful, did you discover the mystery of the box?" he wondered, playing with the fabric on my shoulder.

I smiled and nodded, replying the memory in my head. He smiled as he watched, but I noticed a slight sadness in his eyes. His smile faltered when he knew I'd realised he was upset, so I turned around and brought him down to my level. He knelt before me, and I placed my hands on his cheeks, drawing his face in close to mine, so our foreheads were touching.

"Edward Anthony Masen Cullen," I murmured, hoping he wouldn't mind me tagging Carlisle's name onto his, "I love you."

He gave me a small grim, "I love you too, soon-to-be Mrs. Esme Anne Cullen."

"Good," my heart flew at my new name, "Now, please, will you tell me what is on that beautiful and mysterious mind of yours? Because I would very much like to bear this burden with you."

He sighed, but shook his head; "There's nothing wrong."

I pursed my lips, "Are you sure that you're okay to go to Chicago by yourself?"

He nodded, "Yes."

"I'll miss you," I whispered, and his eyes took on a pained look.

"I'll miss you too," he whispered back, "But none of us will be gone for long."

I nodded, "Exactly. We won't be, and we'll all come back and be a family again. The new semester of college will begin and you'll be able to study more amazing things and show me how incredible you are during the night when you and I are flying through the forest at all hours. Edward," I whispered, brushing away his hair, "Nothing is going to change after this day, except perhaps, your father and I won't be so insufferable to be around."

Edward laughed, "Perhaps it will be the opposite," he joked.

I shrugged, "I'll try my best, and you know your father has self-control that is rivalled by no one… Mind you, I bet in a hundred years, or even less, your self-control will rival even his, you know."

Edward sighed, "That's not possible."

I shook my head, "Don't doubt yourself, dear. I've never come across anyone with so much dedication before."

He raised a questioning eyebrow, "When have I shown dedication?"

"Everyday you do. In this life, just like Carlisle, but also, every single time you play your piano. I think you are the only person who can learn so beautifully and so quickly, and never once have I heard you give up."

He pursed his lips and thought about it for a moment, "But this isn't a piano."

I smiled, "Life is only ever what you make it. If you want to play it like a piano, play it like a piano. If you want to run it like a race, run it like a race. If you want to let it destroy you, let it destroy you. You are the only one who decides how you will live."

Edward's eyes narrowed and then a familiar smirk came across his face, "You worded that one very carefully, didn't you?"

I laughed, and pulled away, ruffling his hair, "I'm coming to learn your rebuttal technique, my darling. Soon, I'll be a formidable opponent." I leaned forward and placed a kiss on his forehead.

"You all ready are," he grinned, and then sighed, "Esme, if you and Carlisle ever wanted more time alone… you'd tell me, wouldn't you?"

I nodded, "We would. Most definitely, but there is one problem with that."

He raised an eyebrow quizzically.

"We'd miss you too much," I admitted honestly, "Perhaps it's this animal blood, perhaps it's messing with all of us, but we love you Edward. We truly do."

Edward grinned up at me, "I love you both too, but I'll rarely ever admit that to Carlisle."

I laughed, "Oh, he knows, but I'll remember to reassure him if he ever doubts it. So tell me, my darling, what is in that big brown paper bag of yours?" I wondered, looking to the bulging bag by the foot of the bed.

"Film canisters," he grinned.

I cocked an eyebrow, "For the camera?"

He nodded.

"We'll really need that many?" I shot him a doubtful look, but he just grinned endearingly.

He shrugged, "If we do, then we have them. It's better to be safe than sorry."

I sighed, but gazed at him lovingly, "You're nothing if not cautious, are you?"

"I like to call it being prepared," he grinned, "Speaking of being prepared, I prepared a wedding gift for you."

"You needn't have," I protested, but he shook his head and straightened up.

"I wanted to…" he grinned, "I'll be right back."

He dashed out of the room, and after the clicking sound of a draw, nearly instantly he was back. He held a black velvet box in his hands. I was reminded of the box he gave me on my birthday.

"Ah, good, so you remember that. Do you remember what you said afterwards? About how you'd have to get used to being given expensive things?" He grinned, looking too cheeky for anyone's good.

I sighed and nodded, "Indeed I do."

"Good," he held out the satin box for me to take, "The same principal applies here."

I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face as I thought about the little challenge the boys had between one another to see who could spoil me the most. I reached out for the smooth box, and grinned up at Edward once he'd given it to me.

"Will it go with my dress? Because I'm wearing the earrings today," I wondered.

He laughed and nodded, "I think so, mind you, fashion is not my forte."

I chuckled to myself as I gently opened the lid. Nestled in beautiful cream silk was a nine-row pearl bracelet, with green plique à jour enamel foliage and gleaming rubies as flowers.

"Edward it's very beautiful," I looked up to his beaming face, "But I hope you're not spoiling me with all of your heirlooms. You really do have to save some for the girl you'll fall in love with."

He smiled at me indulgently, "So much faith in love, mother."

I gave him a shrug, "It's what I do. Now, should I wear it on my left hand, or my right hand?" I wondered, not expecting him to consider my question quite intently as he did.

"Right," he gave me a definitive nod, "Let your new wedding ring be the focal point of your left hand."

I laughed, "You've seen it no doubt."

He beamed proudly as he watched me slide the bracelet onto my right arm, "Indeed I have. Carlisle has outdone himself. You'd better be careful you know, he'll buy you the planet someday."

I sighed, but I could not deny the euphoria that thought brought me. Indeed, it was a nice feeling to be spoilt. I gently placed the small box down on my dresser and pulled out the other one that still held my earrings. I watched Edward smiling in the mirror as I clipped the expensive diamonds onto my lobes, willing them to stay there and not fall off.

He chuckled at my thoughts, and his eyes flicked to the dress, "Would you like me to put this all in the car?" he wondered.

I sighed, and considered his offer, "I suppose so…"

"Or I could leave it here for you to stare at for a while longer?"

I shook my head fondly, but allowed him to take it. My eyes darted back to the clock; only half an hour had passed. Sighing, I turned back to the mirror to check my hair once more, and remove the headdress, wishing time would cease to move so slowly.

Edward darted back up to my room once my dress and bouquet were safely inside the Duesenberg.

"What would you like to do to pass the time? I'd suggest we could go out for a run, but that would mess up your hair. You've done a lovey job of that, by the way. I could play you something on the piano, if you'd like?" He offered.

I grinned proudly back at my son, "Yes. I'd love that. Thank you, Edward."

He reached out for my arm, smiling to himself, "We could leave at 11, and take the scenic route to get there just before twelve, and then you'll have more time to get ready, as well as feel as though we're doing something constructive."

We walked arm in arm out of my room and down the stairs, "That sounds like a good idea, thank you, dear."

I spend the next forty minutes with my head on his shoulder, conscious of my hair, and miraculously, time passed quickly. I was a jumping ball of excitement when the time came for us to go. Edward laughed at me, but I knew that he was excited too. We double and tripled checked that we had everything in car, from the little white lace garter, to the overflowing bag of film canisters and the camera, I was sure we'd remembered everything.

Edward took a very scenic route to Mason, and we arrived at around ten to twelve. Pastor Brian's wife and Poppy appeared outside when they heard us pull up. They were nearly as excited as I was. It was a strange thing that they were excited about Carlisle and I getting married, but I liked their enthusiasm. Despite not needing outside approval, it was nice to have.

They showed me to the small room at the end of the entrance hall, where I would get changed as Edward fetched everything from the car. The doors to the church body were closed, so I couldn't steal a peek at the floral decorations, but I knew that they would be beautiful. Edward had a tendency to refuse settling with anything that fell short of perfection.

Once everything was placed into the room next to the nave, I turned to gaze at the dusty mirror that occupied the room, and Edward went inside to check the music once more. I had giggled at that, and Poppy joined in, grinning at me shyly. Edward whispered to me that Poppy looked up to me. I was flattered; I nearly blushed – even though it was impossible.

Taking a deep breath, I moved away from the mirror and began to change into my dress. The girls had done a brilliant job at making it a little less straight, but I was glad the skirt wasn't any bigger. The long lace sleeves clung to my arms like a second skin, but the bodice of the dress was a little looser, until it expanded at the hips. It was masterfully done. I fervently hoped the Fortendue women were paid accordingly, but I had a sneaking suspicion that Carlisle would have been very generous. When my dress was securely on, I slipped the garter up high on my leg. I knew it was advised to wear it low, but considering that none of the men present were likely to attempt to rip it off, I figured it was best hidden away high. I was about to fix my veil onto my headdress when I overheard a whispered conversation between the two humans inside the church.

"Grandmother, where will I go during the service?" Poppy wondered in a whiny tone.

"Inside the house, dear."

"But why can't I watch?" she wondered.

The elderly woman sighed "Because you haven't been invited, Poppy."

"But Ben and George are allowed to watch."

"That's because they'll be down the back of the church, and they have a job to do."

"Can I have a job to do?" Poppy wondered.

My dead heart throbbed with pity for the young girl, and I wondered if Carlisle would mind me inviting her.

"Excuse me," Edward murmured, after finishing his piece on the piano, "I'll just check on the bride."

The ladies murmured their agreement as Edward made his way out of the nave and toward the door I was behind. He knocked and then entered.

He beamed at me when he saw me, "You look beautiful, Esme."

I grinned and thanked him, "What about Poppy?" I wondered, "Can we invite her?"

He shrugged, "I don't see why not. Would you like me to do that now?"

I nodded, "Please."

"Of course," he paused and then laughed, cocking his head to the side, "Do you hear that car on the highway?" He wondered.

I nodded, listening to the wheels on the gravel.

"What kind of car do you think it is?"

I listened more carefully and then answered automatically, "It's a Cadillac…" My eyes widened, "Is it?"

Edward chuckled, and nodded, backing out of the room, "It's him."

Edward kept laughing as he left and I fought the urge to do a little dance. I listened intently to the car tyres on the road, which were quickly joined by more, speeding close behind, as Edward went to invite the young girl to our ceremony.

The tyres were coming very close when I heard an excited scream, "Oh, thank you Mr. Masen!" Poppy exclaimed, "Thank you, so very much!"

I laughed and returned to my fixation with the sound of my Carlisle speeding closer. Edward's footsteps headed outside as the car slowed down and turned onto the church's driveway. Excitement raged through my body as the car parked, and Carlisle hopped out of it. The second car pulled up beside him, and I ducked over to the window to see if I could get a look, but my view was obscured.

"Cullen!" called a man's voice, "I've never see anyone drive that fast, you mad man!"

Carlisle laughed – a sound that was pure music to my ears – and replied in a most blasé fashion, "What can I say? I'm a little eager to be here. Thomas, you've met Edward."

"Indeed I have," the man – who must have been Thomas Gregson – replied, "It's good to see you again, young chap. This here is my lovely wife, Elizabeth."

"Hello Edward," a young woman's voice murmured in a sweet tone, "It's lovely to meet you, and please, call me Elsie."

"It's lovely to meet you too, Elsie. I hear you're the photographer for today."

Edward spent the next few moments explaining the camera to Elizabeth, and I tried to listen to Carlisle's voice, but he wasn't saying much. Running feet passed the door, closely followed by less excited footsteps.

"Poppy, slow down!" The elderly woman hissed.

Poppy's feet slowed their pace.

"Ah, Carlisle," Edward called out, "We invited Poppy to watch the service, I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," Carlisle grinned.

"Oh thank you, kind doctor," Poppy exclaimed, she went on to say something more, but Edward spoke over her.

"Oh, look at the time. Should we get some photographs out here before Elsie goes in to find the bride?"

There were murmured agreements, and I listened intently as feet shuffled and the camera went off a few times. I wished I could be out there with them. Suddenly I felt a little lonely, in the tiny dark room all by myself, it was almost like I'd been shoved into a broom closet with a grimy mirror. I tried not to sigh; Carlisle would undoubtedly hear and grow worried.

"Alright, how about we move inside?" Edward suggested, "I think the bride will be excited to meet Mrs. Gregson. No doubt she's sick of seeing only me, by now."

_You know that's not true, Edward,_ I thought in my most motherly tone, but he was partially right. It would be nice to have the company of another woman.

Nerves twisted in my stomach as I heard footsteps make their way inside. First were Poppy's and her grandmother's, next were Carlisle's and Gregson's, finally Edward led Elizabeth to the wooden door, and knocked gently.

"Come in," I called, shuffling back over to the grimy mirror, so Elizabeth wouldn't know that I was trying to peek outside. I took a deep breath of clean air.

The door creaked open, and Edward – ever the gentleman – let the lady enter first. She gasped when she saw me, and I turned around to smile. A deep blush spread over her face when our eyes locked, and I offered up a tentative smile, which she slowly returned. She was a slight woman, probably the same size as me, with blonde curly hair and light blue eyes. She wore a pink dress and white hat, which suited her fair complexion. She was beautiful… for a human.

"He-hello," she stuttered, "I'm…uh, my name is Elizabeth, and I have the camera."

I grinned, and spoke quietly, trying not to inhale, "Hello Elizabeth, I'm Anna. Thank you for coming today."

She nodded slowly, and a more comfortable smile spread across her face, as my air supply rapidly diminished.

"Does that window open?" Edward wondered, leaving the door open and marching over to the small window behind me, "It's stuffy in here. It can't be good for your lungs, Anna."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't think of that," I murmured, looking at my toes.

Elizabeth laughed, and Edward forced the window open, "Don't you worry, I forgot an array of important things on my wedding day." She shut the door behind her, "We can't have prying eyes peeking."

I grinned, feeling better with the window open, and took a tentative breath. Elizabeth Gregson smelt absolutely delectable. Edward shot me a warning glance, but I was in control. This was the day I had been dreaming about since I was sixteen; I wasn't about to muck it up.

"Good idea," I grinned.

"You're dress is absolutely darling!" She exclaimed, moving closer to touch the lace.

"Thank you, Elizabeth," I murmured.

"Oh please," she looked up to me with bright, excited eyes, "It's Elsie. Elizabeth is too long for me." She giggled, "Oh my word! Are those real flowers, how beautiful! And orange blossoms at this time of year? Incredible. Oh, your bouquet is so gorgeous!" She fawned over everything for a few moments, before lifting the camera up and taking photographs of it all.

When she took the sixteenth photo of me looking at my bouquet, I couldn't help but laugh, "You must really love taking photographs."

"Oh! I do!" She exclaimed, "But I rarely ever have people to take them of. The people in Ashland were welcoming to my husband, but I'm not really the extroverted type, so I'm stuck taking photos of the next door neighbours cat that I cat-napped."

I giggled, "Sometimes cats are nicer than humans."

Elsie blushed, "Well I'll tell you this, cats are nicer than the nurses of Ashland town."

I grinned, "I've never met one…"

"But I don't doubt you've heard of them." She raised her eyebrows.

I gave her a wry grin, "Two in particular."

"Mabel and Ruby?" She wondered.

I nodded and we burst into fits of giggles. Edward leaned up against the back wall and raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing about his lips.

Elsie turned to him, and raised her hand, "Now, Edward, this doesn't leave this room, all right?" she turned back to me, "You'll get them everywhere you go. Truly. I even _went_ to the hospital once, and he introduced me to them, but they still flirted, and I know it's awfully uncouth, but I kissed him right on the lips in front of them."

My eyes widened, and a giggle escaped my lips, "Oh, you should have seen their faces. I'll bet I have a reputation now, but I just had to let them know that he is _mine._ My mother would have died if she knew."

Elsie laughed, and I joined in. Edward grinned and shook his head indulgently, "Does it really matter what they think, when you know that he loves you, and only you?"

Elise smirked, "It really does. You'll understand someday, young Mr. Masen. You'll fall for a girl, and the moment that another boy looks at her for too long, you'll see green."

I nodded, "It's true, you know."

He sighed and shook his head, glancing to the watch on his wrist, "It's almost time."

"Oh!" Elsie jumped, "Let me help you with your veil, darling."

When we had fixed my veil and headpiece securely in it's place, she took a few more photos of me, and of both Edward and I – with the amount of film Edward brought, she had that luxury – then she fluttered off to join the boys.

Edward grinned at me, flipping the front piece of veil over my face, "Beautiful," he murmured, "You know, everyday I'm thankful that Carlisle brought you home that night. You are, perhaps, one of the best things that has ever come into my life. I love you, my dearest mother, and I wish you every happiness that you deserve with a man who adores you more than anything else on Earth."

I nearly felt a tear in my eye at his sweet words, "Thank you, my darling son. My heart swells with love for you, and your sweet mind."

I lifted the veil a little to place a kiss upon his forehead, and then he tucked my arm in his and opened the small wooden door, leading me out of my dingy broom closet.

The church doors were closed when we came to stand in front of them, and I marvelled at their extraordinary beauty. They'd always been open when I'd visited the church before, so I'd never had the opportunity to see them like this. The carving was exquisite; the wood was embellished with twirls and loops, flowers and foliage, and extraordinary crosses.

"Trust _you_," Edward murmured from beside me.

I looked up quizzically to meet his tender gaze.

"On your wedding day, all you're thinking about is how beautiful the architecture is."

I grinned up at him, "Edward, you'll see one day, when you're in love, everything is beautiful."

He shook his head indulgently as the piano began to play from inside the nave. Footsteps marched toward the closed doors, and hands grabbed the cast iron handles. With a loud click the large wooden doors bean to open inwardly, and my eyes hungrily devoured the scene. I was taking in the beauty of the way the light flooded in the room when I caught sight of _him_.

It was nearly impossible for me to fall over, so why was I so thankful for Edward's support? I'd not be able to manage this on my own, not when I saw him, standing alone at the altar. Standing alone for the very last time. The remainder of eternity would see me by his side, never alone again.

Two hundred and fifty eight years of being a lonely vampire would end with certainty when Edward placed my hand in Carlisle's. I'd never been prouder of myself than I was right then. A person is lucky to find someone to love in life, but doubly lucky to find someone who loves in return, because in that moment, one person's happiness becomes mutual happiness, and by just being oneself, joy is brought to the other. Forever I would make him happy by simply being myself.

Carlisle's smile was wide, as he stood there with pastor Brian, in his dashing black suit and bow tie, with his hair combed and styled. His golden eyes sparkled with his smile and impossibly, when I smiled back, his grin grew wider. I was vaguely aware of other things happening while I walked down the aisle, like quiet gasps from our audience, and the way the light spilled through the windows, giving pastor Brian and Carlisle halos. The flowers adorned the end of every pew, smelling delectably of sweet and warm lilies, delicate roses and the miraculous out-of-season orange blossoms. There were scentless orchids tumbling out of every arrangement like the vines at our cove. Everything here was beautiful; Gregson and Elsie at the front to the right, Poppy at the front to the left, and Pastor Brian's wife at the piano were all dressed in their very best, smiling even shedding a few tears – adding an interesting saltiness to the air. I couldn't quite get passed the beauty of my Carlisle though, so the beauty of all the rest went a little underappreciated by me.

The walk down the aisle seemed to take an entirety in itself, but after sometime Edward and I reached the front pews, and the end of the aisle. Suddenly, a thought occurred to me: Edward would not appreciate holding my bouquet for the entirety of the service, so I stopped dead in my tracks. I could see Edward smirking out of the corner of my eye, and I even heard four gasps from around me, wondering what I was doing. They were probably wondering if I was backing out – and questioning my sanity if I was.

I turned to Poppy on my left, and offered up a timid smile, "Would you take care of these for me, please? I know I can trust you to keep them safe." I offered her my bouquet and she nodded, "Thank you, sweetheart."

She blushed and tears welled in her eyes, "Of course," she whispered in an unsteady voice.

I offered her another smile when she gripped onto the flowers with both hands.

Turning back to Edward, we shared a nod and walked forward once more.

"She considers this the best day of her life now."

_Me too,_ I thought as I locked eyes with Carlisle, his eyes were alight with so much love I wondered if he would burst. When Edward and I reached the foot of the steps that led up to the altar, Carlisle descended them to meet us, and Pastor Brian began to speak.

"Dearly beloved, we have gathered here today to witness and bless the union of Carlisle Cullen and Esme Anne Platt in marriage."

Pastor Brian took a deep breath, and from behind us I heard Elsie whisper to her husband, "Can you hear him? I can't hear him."

"Nope," Gregson replied, "Nothing."

Elsie sighed, and I couldn't repress my smile. _We were safe_.

In his quiet, raspy voice Pastor Brian continued, "To this sacred moment they bring the fullness of their hearts as a treasure, and a gift from God to share with one another, they bring the dreams that bind them together in an eternal commitment, their gifts and talents, as well as their unique personalities and spirits, which God will unite into one being as they build their life together. We rejoice with them in thankfulness to the Lord for creating this union of hearts, built on friendship, respect and love.

"If you will all bow you heads, we will now say a prayer."

I looked to Carlisle as we three bowed our heads, watching him pray was a beautiful thing. His eyes were closed and his breathing even, as usual, but his lips moved in a quiet prayer of his own, as Pastor Brian spoke the words we had previously chosen.  
"Dear Heavenly Father, love has been Your richest and greatest gift to the world, and love between a man and woman, which matures into marriage, is one of Your most beautiful types of love. Today we celebrate that sacred love. We pray Your blessing be on this union, and may You protect, guide, and bless Carlisle and Esme in their marriage. We thank You for the love that You surround them and us with, and we ask that such love remain with us, now and always. Amen."

There were a few quietly whispered '_Amen'_s that resounded through the church, as we all raised our heads. Carlisle caught my eye, and we shared my favourite private smile.

"Have you ever seen anything like them?" I heard Elsie whisper.

The fabric of Gregson's shirt rustled as he shook his head, "I've never seen him smile like that to anyone either."

Pastor Brian cleared his throat once more, and resumed speaking in his quiet voice, "Doubly blessed is the couple, which comes to the marriage altar with the approval and blessings of their families and friends. Who has the honor of presenting this woman to be married to this man?

"I do." Edward's voice rang out, loud and clear, prouder than any father who had ever given away any daughter to be married to any man, and his face, as he placed my hand in Carlisle's, told exactly the same story. He placed a quick kiss upon my cheek and patted Carlisle on the shoulder as he moved to take Carlisle's flanks.

With my hand now securely in my love's, I felt an all-consuming feeling of being at home.

"You look… so beautiful," he murmured as we climbed the steps to the altar.

I would have blushed if I could have, seeing the sincerity in his eyes, I smiled, "Thank you, I like your hair like that."

He grinned, "I did it especially, it takes more time though."

"It's a good thing I like both then. How was your shift?" I wondered.

He chuckled, his euphoric smile returned, "It was good, but it was nothing compared to this, my love."

I tried, but I couldn't stifle the giggle in my throat as I shared in his elation.

Pastor Brian joined in with our beaming when we reached him, and spent a moment too long smiling at us before he remembered to speak once again. He looked down to the words in his hands then offered us an apologetic smile as he cleared his raspy throat once more.

"Carlisle," he nodded to my love, "Do you take Esme to be your wife, to live together as friend and mate? Do you promise to love her as a person, respect her as an equal, sharing joy as well as sorrow, triumph as well as defeat? And keep her beside you as long as you both shall live?"

Carlisle looked to me, and gave my hand a gentle squeeze as he spoke with sincerity in his voice, as deep as that of his eyes, "I do"

"And Esme," Pastor Brian turned to me, to pose the same question, "Do you take Carlisle to be your husband, to live together as friend and mate? Do you promise to love him as a person, respect him as an equal, sharing joy as well as sorrow, triumph as well as defeat? And keep him beside you as long as you both shall live?

To which I undoubtedly answered the two words I had wanted to say since the day I met Carlisle in Ohio when I was 16, "I do"

"Now, I ask you, Carlisle, to turn toward your beloved, and speak your vows with honest, and sincere truth in front of the Lord, our God and Savior."

I didn't miss the slight smirk that crossed the Pastor's face as he relished in the fact he'd not have to speak the vows himself for us to repeat, for we'd assured him we had them memorized, the slight eccentricity and all.

Carlisle and I repositioned ourselves to face one another, and secured our hands in their complementary pair, "I, Carlisle Cullen," his golden eyes stared into mine so deeply I was sure he'd be able to see my soul if indeed I did possess one. He spoke slowly, making in exceptionally apparent that he meant every single word that he murmured, "Take you, Esme Anne Platt, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, and to cherish, 'till the end of time, according to God's Holy ordinance."

Pastor Brian looked to me, "And Esme, I ask you, to speak your vows with honest, and sincere truth in front of the Lord, our God and Savior."

I took a deep breath, and turned back to look into Carlisle's eyes, which had so quickly become my favourite thing in the universe, I tried to accomplish the same reverence that Carlisle spoke with, letting every single bit of love I felt flood into the sincere and truthful promises I then murmured to him, "I, Esme Anne Platt, take you, Carlisle Cullen, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, and to cherish, 'till the end of time, according to God's Holy ordinance."

Never did I truly believe that I'd have the opportunity to say those words to him in a church. I really was the luckiest person to have ever existed.

"May we have the rings, please?" Pastor Brian asked Edward, who nodded and pulled the golden rings from his pocket. I'd not seen my wedding ring yet; Carlisle wanted to keep it as a surprise. I trusted him with it implicitly; especially when he told me he'd be returning to the same jeweler he purchased my engagement ring from. No doubt the man would know exactly what would complement the beautiful golden piece of art Carlisle had given me on our engagement.

Pastor Brian thanked Edward as he was handed the rings, and I craned my neck to see the design of it, earning me a few chuckles from our small audience.

Pastor Brian grinned at me before speaking once again, "The wedding ring is a symbol of eternity. It is an outward sign of an inward and spiritual bond, which unites two hearts in endless love. And now as a token of your love and of your deep desire to be forever united in heart and soul, you Carlisle, may place a ring on the finger of your bride, and speak the promise, which the ring doth symbolize."

He held the thin band out to Carlisle, who took it, with a large grin, and I finally got a look of the beautiful – and somehow, floral – golden bands and tiny shiny stones.

Carlisle gently dropped my right hand; to hold my left hand out, ready to be adorned with his promise of forever.

"Esme," he placed the ring at my fingertip, and in my eagerness, I almost put it on myself, "I give you this ring as a symbol of our vows, and with all that I am, and all that I have, I honor you. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit." He paused to favor me with an even bigger smile, I'd never thought possible, "With this ring, I thee wed." He slid the ring effortlessly down my finger and secured it to the spot where it would eternally remain.

"By the same token Esme, you may place a ring on the finger of your groom."

"Huh, what's happening?" I heard Elsie whisper.

Gregson chuckled, "He's going to wear a ring too… Smart man that Cullen."

"Maybe you should take a leaf out of his book?" Elsie teased.

"Maybe I should," I could hear the smile in Gregson's voice as Pastor Brian handed me Carlisle's ring, which I noticed had the exact imprint of mine on the inside. The outside was plain and gold, which was the perfect choice for him. Outwardly he appeared perfect, flawless, the archetypal prince charming, but on the inside, he was so much better than that.

When my song-like voice next spoke, it was proud and jubilant, justly expressing my feelings at that very moment, as I held his left hand in mine, with his wedding ring resting against his fingertip, "Carlisle," I allowed a brief pause, in which I flicked him a bright grin, "I give you this ring as a symbol of our vows, and with all that I am, and all that I have, I honor you. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. With this ring, I thee wed."

Gently, reigning in my newborn strength, I pushed the ring to the base of his finger, and he gathered my hands in his once more. Despite a golden band merely being an outward symbol of the promises we'd made to one another, and us having not yet sealed the deal with a kiss, I suddenly felt like it was official. That this extraordinary being who strived for goodness in everything, who fought his very own nature not to succumb to something that he didn't want to be, chose me as his equal. He chose me to walk with, me to live with, and me to love with. That was an extraordinary thing, but what was more extraordinary, perhaps, was the sudden feeling of worth. It was right for me to be here, because I was not inferior to him. I deserved his love, just as he deserved mine. I was worth it.

It was with that realization, that the floodgates to an immense love I'd not felt before opened up and let the emotion come in. It was not an emotion surge that I was accustomed to… not one I reflexively accredited to my newborn self, but something different, something… _special. _My heart had finally opened itself as wide as it could possibly go, and perhaps I was bold enough to consider that my heart was more open than anyone's ever had been. I battled the urge to wrap Carlisle in a hug, rather gallantly; if I may be so bold, and won, but I did squeeze his hands so much I may have made him flinch.

I whispered an apology, but he merely grinned back at me.

Pastor Brian cleared his throat once again; to continue the service I'd stopped paying attention to, "Now that Carlisle and Esme have given themselves to each other by the promises they have exchanged, I pronounce them to be husband and wife, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen"

Should my heart have been beating, I'm certain it would have stopped upon hearing Pastor Brian whisper those words, and judging my the look on my _husband's_ face, his would have done the same thing too.

"I ask you to once again bow your heads as we pray a blessing over this beloved couple."

This time Carlisle did not close his eyes, but instead they remained locked on mine, and there was no way I was going to break that stare, so I didn't even try.

"May the love of God be above you to overshadow you, beneath you to uphold you, before you to guide you, behind you to protect you, close beside you and within you to make you able for all things, and to reward your faithfulness with the joy and peace, which the world cannot give – neither can it take away. Through Jesus Christ, our Lord, to whom be glory now and evermore. Amen."

'_Amen'_ once again resounded through our party of eight. Once everyone was settled, Pastor Brian beamed back at Carlisle and I, and closed the little book in his hands.

"Carlisle," he murmured, "You may now kiss your Bride."

My favourite smile – _that_ smile – spread across his face as he dropped my hands, only to gently cup my face, and bring his lips, ever so slowly, to meet mine.

Now this kiss was chaste, and proper, and all that a wedding kiss was supposed to be, unlike our kisses last night, my mother would have approved. I'd even go so far to say, that if she were there that day, she'd be proud of me.

When Carlisle and I pulled away after a very short time, applause erupted from the few people that witnessed our marriage. We did not yet turn to face them though, for Pastor Brian had cleared his throat, louder than ever before.

Next, when he spoke, he exerted a great amount of effort to ensure his next words could be heard by those who sat in the front row, and it seemed as though he was proudly shouting it out to the world, "_It is now my privilege to introduce to you for the first time, Dr. and Mrs. Carlisle Cullen_."

And what an extraordinary moment that was, as Carlisle held my hand in his, and turned us around to face the nearly empty church, with our three guests on their feet honouring us with a standing ovation, and brilliantly bright, human smiles.

Finally, I was Esme Cullen…finally, and _eternally._

* * *

_A.N Hi there! Thanks for all the lovely reviews and well wishes for my birthday trip. I had a nice time, albeit a cold one, now I'm back, another year older but not much wiser. _

_Initially there wasn't supposed to be much Edward in here, but he kind of wrote himself... so he featured quite heavily. I can promise he won't be in the next few chapters very much at all (sorry Edward! Have fun by yourself in Chicago)._

_I know it's not overly common to have a lot of detail of what's said at the wedding, aside from the vows and "I do" or whatever, but I wanted this to be a little more detailed, because after watching all of this play out, I think we all deserve a front row seat at their wedding... or a rock if you're Alice. I'm glad you guys liked Alice in the last chapter, she's fun to add in, so I'll keep doing that with big moments. The vows they spoke were at a ceremony I attended once, and I managed to find them online, so disclaimer alert - they're not mine! I wanted to keep it traditional-ish, so I though I'd better not write my own. No one knows how strange tat would have turned out! _

_The next chapter will pick up nearly right where this left off, and we'll see the beginning of the honeymoon. There'll be no graphic lemons, I'm keeping it to a T rating. Sorry to some readers, you're welcome to others ;) _

_Hope it was worth the wait! Tell me how you felt about it in a review, please? I'll love you eternally! _

_Much love x_


	46. And After

_Chapter Forty-Six: And After_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, December 1921_

_Esme_

There was a split second when we turned around to see the small audience in the front pews, before Elsie ran towards me with her arms outstretched for a hug. Inwardly, I cringed, I was still a newborn – I really didn't want to be that close to a human, but outwardly I grinned at her. I liked Elsie Gregson; she had a very sweet heart. Carlisle dropped my hand, and placed his arm around my waist to anchor me to Earth, so Elsie's sweet scent wouldn't pull me over the edge, but it was okay, I was holding my breath. She enveloped me in a warm hug, and I could feel her veins pulsing through her thin skin against my granite exterior. She shivered slightly, and probably became alarmed at my temperature, but thankfully, her embrace didn't linger. Gregson stood back, not wanting a hug, which I was thankful for, but truthfully, the need for blood was very low on the list of things I cared about right then, just like the smirk I knew would be adorning Edward's face behind me, for truly, the only thing I cared about was that I was Carlisle's wife.

"Congratulations, you two!" Elsie exclaimed before pulling Carlisle into a hug, his face momentarily showed his surprise, and Gregson laughed.

"All right dear, I don't think Carlisle is used to being randomly captured by a woman he's know for only the best part of an hour," the man with blonde hair and tanned skin grinned.

"Oh, I do apologise," Elsie murmured, moving back quickly, looking glum.

"Not at all, Elsie," Carlisle assured her, "I thank you for your congratulations."

Her face lit up at his acceptance, and in her excitement she wrapped Edward in a hug also. His face was priceless.

Poppy came up to us next, and handed me back my bouquet, I thanked her as sincerely as I could, and offered her a hug, for I knew she was begging for it inside. She beamed when I pulled away, and moved to Carlisle, shyly giving him a half embrace. She wasn't quite so hesitant when she threw herself at Edward though – it was obvious she'd developed quite the interest in my very good-looking son.

He was grinding his teeth together as he awkwardly patted her on the back, and Gregson (as well as Carlisle, might I add) both fought to bite back their laughter.

When Pastor Brian's wife made her way over to us, she wore the kind of smile that immediately made me suspicious.

"Congratulations, you two dears, I'm so very happy for you," it was plainly obvious that her words were heartfelt, I could see it in her tired grey eyes, "We have a little surprise for you darlings."

I could see Carlisle's eyebrows shoot up from beside me, and I'm fairly certain that mine did the very same thing. Pastor Brian's wife motioned for us all to follow her out of the church. Out the corner of my eye, I could see Edward's grinning face, and immediately, I knew that he was to blame. He flicked me a smirk – suspicions confirmed.

I looked up to Carlisle as we made our way down the aisle behind the elderly woman, and he smiled down at me. The world ceased to exist with him beside me. All I could see were his soft, gentle and glowing golden eyes, his wide smile, his soft hair, his pale skin… all I could ever see was him. And God! I wanted so badly to kiss him.

He gave me a crooked grin as if he'd inherited Edward's gift and knew exactly what I was thinking, or perhaps he felt the same way too. He placed a soft kiss on my nose, and I heard a squeak from behind us. I knew right away that it was Elsie, and I couldn't help the giggle that escaped my lips.

Carlisle shook his head indulgently, and squeezed my waist. My heart throbbed with love once more, so much love that it very nearly hurt.

When the temptation to kiss him nearly overcame me, I had to look away. So I re-focussed on the bouquets of flowers that adorned the edge of every row. They were white, light blue, and a million different shades of beautiful. The white was the perfect complement to the rich wood of the church seats, perhaps that was the most beautiful part of it all – or maybe the most beautiful thing were the few stray petals that had fallen from the bunches and found a new home on the floor. I wasn't sure, but one thing I did know was that I loved little imperfections like that.

"Sweetheart?" Elsie murmured from behind us.

"Yes, love?" Gregson murmured just as quietly.

"Should we get the gift from the car now, or later?"

There was a slight pause as he considered her question, and I wished they'd not got us anything.

"I'll get it now," he replied quietly as we reached the open doors of the church. There were two men standing there, one on each side of the doorway, smiling at us. I'd not even considered that the doormen would have been watching our wedding. I returned their smiles, but felt a little bashful about being watched by people that neither Carlisle nor I knew.

Thinking of Carlisle only served to bring my attention back to him, and the temptation to kiss him returned. I shuffled closer to him and I heard him chuckle slightly in a manner than almost sounded relieved. He squeezed my waist once again, and I didn't care about what surprise was in store for us, I didn't want it. I just wanted to be alone with my husband.

As we walked outside and down the stairs, my mind drifted away, wondering where Carlisle and I would be off to tonight. I knew we wouldn't be going out to the islands, we'd been there for a big Thanksgiving hunt, and I knew the boys were planning to return for Christmas – there were a lot of mountain lions – so I doubted Carlisle would take me some place I'd already been. I truthfully had very little idea where we would be going. I barely paid attention to Gregson dashing off toward his car when we were outside, or Carlisle's steady hand on the small of my back, directing me wherever we were going, but I did notice when we walked down the side of the church and turned the corner that there was a long table with a white cloth over it, and a large brass phonograph sitting next to a single rapped gift and a small, round cake. Pastor Brian's wife walked over to the phonograph and placed the needle on the record, so a quiet, raspy song began to play.

"A surprise reception," Carlisle grinned, "That's very kind of you. Thank you."

The elderly woman shook her head and grinned, "It was Edward's idea completely."

Carlisle and I both turned to give a questioning look to our son, who grinned at us sheepishly, "Well, Carlisle, you did once say that we weren't doing this halfway."

I beamed, and quickly made my way over to my beautifully thoughtful Edward, pulling him into a tight hug as I thanked him profusely in my head.

He chuckled, and returned my hug just as tightly, although, I was very careful not to unleash my full newborn strength on him.

I caught Gregson returning with a white box in his hands, and watched him as he snuck it onto the table. I pulled away from Edward, and my eyes fell on the small cake.

"Edward mentioned that you wouldn't be having any cake, Mrs. Cullen," Poppy murmured, and I marvelled at my new title, "But we made one none-the-less, I hope you don't mind." She blushed and looked at her toes.

I shook my head, "I don't mind in the least, it was such a lovely thought, Poppy. I'm very grateful."

Her reply smile was wide, and I noticed her darling buckteeth for the very first time. Her hair was dark auburn, and her skin pale with scattered freckles over her nose and cheeks. She was rather adorable, truly. I found myself hoping that Edward would one day give me a daughter-in-law with a heart at least half as sweet as Poppy's, which earned me a discreet eye roll from my beloved son.

Pastor Brian rounded the corner of the church and joined us out back, smiling contentedly to himself, "Oh, I do love this song," he murmured, swaying from side to side, he grinned over at Carlisle and I, "We took it upon ourselves to get you a little something, you've stolen our hearts quite quickly, dears."

I let Carlisle reply to him, for I was too flattered to know what to say, but when Pastor Brian's wife grabbed the small box off of the table she handed it to me. I looked up to Carlisle, wondering if he would like to open it, but he motioned for me to.

"Thank you, very much," he said earnestly to the small family as I tore off the white paper to uncover a beautiful white box, with silver words atop it in plain font, reading _Holy Bible._ The white hardback book itself was small, fitting snugly inside the box, with silver foil writing, and the usual thin paper inside. There was a handwritten inscription in the front that I didn't read, instead I chose to fiddle with the ribbon marker and think about how thoughtful their gift was, although I wouldn't be reading it with its intended purpose quite like Carlisle would, I appreciated it as much as I would any other book – perhaps even more, because I was sure Carlisle would adore it.

I was proven right mere moments later, as I looked up to his delighted eyes, swimming with happiness.

I grinned and he squeezed my waist once again, "It's lovely," he murmured, then looked back up to the Pastor's family, "Thank you so much."

Pastor Brian grinned, still swaying to the music slightly and nodded, "You are most welcome, may the Lord be with you in all that you do."

Carlisle thanked him once more, but by that time Elsie was nearly jumping with excitement, clutching her gifts in her hands.

I smiled at her, "You know you didn't –"

"Have to," she nodded, "But we _wanted _to… besides this is only half of the gift, the other half is on Edward's shoulders," she flicked a grin at my sheepish son, whose efforts for today had gone above and beyond.

Elsie quickly walked over to us as I handed Carlisle the bible, and she watched intently as I unwrapped the empty photo album and a wooden frame, which would fit two photographs, one large and one small – both heart shaped.

"It's beautiful, thank you," I murmured.

"They're for the photographs I took today, speaking of which, shall we get some more before the dancing and cake?" Elsie wondered as her eyes darted from Carlisle's to mine.

I smiled and nodded, so the gifts were soon taken from our hands, and the camera was capturing our every move. After a long photo session, the cake was cut and the muffler was removed from the phonograph's brass horn, so the music grew louder and our small party watched as Carlisle and I danced on the grass.

"Well, this is nice," Carlisle murmured as he twirled me around our impromptu dance floor.

"Yes," I nodded, agreeing in a murmur, "Except, I'd very much like to kiss you."

He grinned and then sighed, "That's exactly what I've been thinking since I saw you walk through those doors." His hand tightened on my back, and I very much wanted to close the distance between us, forgetting all about propriety, but I would not embarrass him by acting in such a way.

"Ah, but you all ready have," I teased.

He chuckled quietly, "That only served to heighten the desire, like a raindrop to a poor man dying of dehydration," he whispered, "You are far to beautiful for words, Mrs. Cullen."

I pursed my lips and tried to hide my smile, "I think you'll never tire of saying that, husband of mine."

He beamed, "Will you ever tire of hearing it, my darling wife?"

"Never," I whispered in a voice so quiet only his ears would pick it up, "Never, ever."

"Then I shall not tire until a day after that," he grinned, and placed a quick kiss on my cheek, "I'm very impatient to get home, propriety seems to matter naught when it is only Edward and us in the room."

I grinned widely up at him, "You know, I completely adore that you are from the seventeenth century. You'll forever be the only one who could get away with saying naught in a casual sentence."

He chuckled, "But I'll only ever say it to you, my love. I think it really would earn my some strange looks in public."

"Speaking of doing things in public, maybe in five or six centuries, you can kiss me in public without anyone batting a single eyelash," I raised a challenging eyebrow.

"You overestimate my patience, I don't think I'll be able to resist the temptation to kiss you in public sometimes over the next five or six centuries," his face was so helpless I wanted to shower his face with kisses, but I resisted – quite gallantly.

Our teasing was interrupted a few moments later when Edward tapped on Carlisle's shoulder, and ended the treacherous temptation tightrope.

The rest of the surprise reception sailed passed quickly, and I enjoyed it, even though I was very ready to head home. When we were readying ourselves to leave, and I'm sure Edward and Gregson were off hunting for a bag of rice, Elsie hurried over for another hug.

"So how does it feel?" she whispered in my ear, "The first day of forever?"

I pulled back as surprise coursed through my body, there was no possible way she could know that Carlisle and I were immortal, what did she mean? The surprise must have been written all over my face, for she clarified moments later.

"You know the rhymes? _M__arried in January's hoar and rime, widowed you'll be before your prime, married in February's sleety weather, life you'll tread in tune together_."

I nodded in realization, "_Married in days of December cheer, love's star shines brighter from year to year_."

Her face lit up, "Exactly! And the other one, _when December's snows fall fast, m__arry, and true love will last._ First day of forever!" She giggled and I grinned, "So how does it feel?"

"My mother would be proud if I said, 'It feels nice,' but truthfully?" I lowered my voice to a whisper, "I don't recall a single moment of my life that my heart has been so full, and yet, so light."

She gave me a little wink and nudged my arm, "Just wait until tonight, you'll be ever so glad that he's a doctor," she sighed wistfully, "They're so gentle and caring. I was so frightened, but," she shook her head, "He took care of me."

Her words cemented the already strong faith in my heart that the hours of night ahead would not be filled with the terror that I'd known before.

I hugged Elsie once more, holding my breath, and thanked her for everything. I knew that this would be the last time I ever saw Elsie Gregson, but I would always remember her as one of the kindest people I'd ever met. I wrote a mental note to remind myself to ask Carlisle if he could keep her in his prayers. I wasn't one to believe in that kind of thing, but taking precautions couldn't hurt…

Edward and Doctor Gregson did indeed return with a large bag of rice, which they took great pleasure in throwing at us. Carlisle protected me from it, even though I noticed that none of it was aimed specifically at me. When we were safely in the front seats of the Cadillac, Edward thanked everyone once more before he hopped the Duesenberg and directed it out of the small parking area, and back onto the road. Carlisle followed suit straight after.

He pulled me close to him on the long seat as he drove, wrapping one arm tight around my waist as he covered my face in the lightest of kisses until I erupted in giggles. He grinned to himself, and nuzzled my cheek, never once taking his eyes off the road, before finally burying his nose in my hair and taking deep, steady breaths.

"Isn't this dangerous, doctor?" I wondered as we flew down the gravel road.

He chuckled and nodded, "For humans it definitely is, but not so much for us."

"Fair point," I nodded, "Edward really does drive like a maniac, doesn't he?" I wondered, having lost sight of the Duesenberg already.

Carlisle chuckled, "Indeed he does."

He placed one last kiss on my temple, and then I lay my head on his shoulder, and he held me tight. The silence in the car was perfect, it brought wit it much needed peace and contentment. Had I been human, I would have fallen asleep for I was so at ease with him there. I closed my eyes and smiled, allowing my senses to get lost in him.

The clouds were still covering the entirety of the sky when Carlisle pulled the car into a driveway and sped down the road. Edward had left the garage door open after he parked the Duesenberg, and I could hear him ruslting around in his room. Carlisle parked the car and was opening my door in a flash. I grinned, as I grabbed my boquet and slid fron the front seat. His arms were around me in another fluid motion, his eyes were positivley brimming with love and adoration.

"I have lived nearly 103,000 days on this Earth, and yet today... today is perhaps, the best of them all," he murmured softy, causing my heart to melt.

I grinned, "I could say the very same thing, with perhaps a few less zeros on the end of that big number," I teased.

He laughed and captured my lips in the kiss I'd been waiting for all day. He kissed me in the way that the sun kisses the Earth, the kind that lingers even when the sun's lips are gone but the heat remains in the tarmac of the city streets. Every single fibre of my being was then a series of tiny explosions, and the tidal wave of love was let out from behind the walls of my heart as I wrapped my arms around his neck and gave the kiss all I had. We stayed like that for a long while, a very glorious long while, until we both got a little too carried away, and he saw sense. He pulled back and grinned at me.

I would have blushed if I could have, but instead I laughed, "It's almost not possible to love someone as much as I love you, so you must forgive me for getting a little carried away."

He grinned and took my free hand, "I was going to say the exact same thing, love."

We laughed and talked as we walked across the lawn to the house. When I stopped to pick up my long dress so it wouldn't get dirty, Carlisle grinned widely at me, "I do love this dress."

I laughed, "Well look while you can, because I'll probably never wear it again."

He grinned mischeviously, "Even if I asked you to?"

I raised an eyebrow, "Oh, definitley, I'd love to walk around the streets in my wedding dress."

He shrugged, the cheekt glint in his eye was yet to disappear, "Well I wasn't exctly thinking about you wearing it in public."

My eyes shot to my hairline, "Carlsile!" I exclaimed, and he burst out laughing.

"Oh, darling, I'm only teasing you."

I pursed my lips, and handed him my boquet so I could have a free hand to hold his with, "I'm sure you were," I muttered disbelievelingly so, "I am sure you were."

He didn't deny nor confirm my suspcions, but the smirk on his glorious features never left, so I stopped thinking about if I would wear my dress ever again. I highly doubted so – but then again, one never really knows what the future has in store.

When we reached the kitchen, I looked up to him shyly, "Do you mind if I go and change?"

He looked a little baffled, "Of course not."

"It's just, if you'd rather I –"

He smiled and shook his head, "My love, you must do what _you_ like."

I sighed and thanked him, and taking my bouquet, I moved out of the kitchen just as Edward was about to come in, he placed a kiss atop my head as he waited and then found Carlisle, "So what happened with the accident this morning?" he wondered, and I couldn't help but smile at my boys. Their conversation was so different from the conversation I shared with my human family after my first wedding – that was forced and impersonal, this was completely and utterly comfortable.

I climbed the stairs that I knew intimately, slowly, paying attention to each and every imperfection that I had come to love. I was in no rush to be anywhere, so I could afford the slow place that I climbed at. When I reached my room I placed the flowers on my bed and reached for the 'going away dress' that the Fortendue ladies insisted I get. It had two layers, both the same shade of light pink that made me look like a china doll, the satin under layer, fell to my knees, and the lace top layer fell half way down my calves. It was short-sleeved, and had a lovely matching jacket that I opted not to put on. I left my hair up, still proud of the styling, and slipped on my smaller white heels.

When I had successfully stored my white lace gown away in it's box, my eyes fell on the beautiful cascading floral arrangement that lay on my bed – or should I say, mine and Carlisle's bed. It almost brought a tear to my eye, having to think of it rotting away somewhere while Carlisle and I were off on our honeymoon. The flowers were so darling, and the memories so sweet, I never wanted them to die. I sighed in sadness, as I picked up the gift for Carlisle and I from the Fortendue ladies, and the letters I'd left out on my dresser from my grandparents, readying to take them with me downstairs. It was then that out the corner of my eye I saw a large green book on one of the bedside tables, and out of curiosity I wandered over to see what book it was. Suddenly, upon seeing the gold foil letters on the cover of the book, an idea sprang to mind. I grabbed my bouquet, and _Plantae of the Americas,_ before dashing out of my room.

I flew down the stairs in a whirl of excitement, and dashed into the sitting room, where the boys had relocated. They both had their ties undone, although Edward had changed out of his dress suit, and their jackets off. I was sure the formal dress would not be physically uncomfortable to them; I decided that they just mustn't like wearing it in a casual setting. It bothered me none, however. After mentally scolding Edward for having his feet on the little table that sat between the two couches, I placed the objects in my hands atop that very table, and sat down on the floor with pursed lips. I reached for the book, and sat it on my lap, then ran my fingers over the flowers; the pollen would be a problem. Suddenly, a brainwave hit, and I ran into the library to retrieve the strange soft paper that Edward had brought home weeks ago to marvel at, but never found any use for.

When I ran back into the room, the boys were both wearing amused expressions, but remained talking about fractured distal phalanges, whatever they were, so I reclaimed my seat on the floor, and opened _Plantae of the Americas _to a random page. I pulled out a sheet of the soft paper, and reached for a few of the beautiful, long orchids that tumbled out of my bouquet. When I pulled them out of the arrangement, I had the boy's attention. Carlisle's brow was knitted in his thinking expression, and Edward merely looked slightly impressed.

I smiled down at my work, as I placed the orchids between the pages, and opened up to another part, "I want them to last forever."

"So you are murdering them?" Edward teased.

I raised my head to give him my best reproving look, "No, I am preserving them."

He chuckled and shook his head, but Carlisle grinned, "I think that's a great idea."

"Thank you," I beamed, before turning back to my work. Their conversation resumed, and moved onto burst appendices. Had I not studied Latin in the long nights when Carlisle worked, I'd not understand half of what they said, but as it turned out, I rarely ever wanted to. Blood and gore seemed to be Edward's favourite subject when it came to discussing Carlisle's work.

I hadn't realised that their conversation had ended and they were merely watching me, until Edward handed me another sheet of the soft paper when I ran out.

He grinned, "I put the other gifts in the study, I didn't know where you'd want them," he murmured shyly, "So I thought there was best."

I nodded, and resumed pressing flowers, "Would either of you like to help? You don't have to but –"

They both agreed before I could finish my sentence, and before I knew it, my entire bouquet had been pressed between the pages of many different books.

Edward and I were left to try and regain our breath when Carlisle disappeared into the study and brought back different books that he'd like to smell a little more like a particular flower, we couldn't stop giggling. Carlisle took it in good spirits, which wasn't at all surprising.

When the flowers were all done, Edward suggested that we open the gift from the Fortendue's as he dashed upstairs to retrieve something. Naturally, he was back down before either Carlisle or I had even sat on the couch.

He grinned as he placed another gift on the table, "That one is from me."

"You really didn't have to, Edward," I murmured, silently thanking him.

He grinned, "I wanted you both to have it. I think it will bring you happiness. But you should open the other one first. I don't even know what it is."

Carlisle laughed, "Nosy?" He teased.

Edward shrugged, "I'm not accustomed to being in the dark, and I know that neither of you mind."

Carlisle let me do the honours, so I carefully pulled the silver bow on the box and lifted the white lid, to reveal a very thick, beige, hand-embroidered afghan.

I smiled as I ran my hand over the soft material, "It's lovely."

When I lifted it out of the box a small white card fell out, so Carlisle picked it up, "To our dear Doctor and Mrs. Cullen, we trust you will enjoy this little piece of love from our family. We each took some time in putting this together, and we hope it will keep you warm during the cold winter nights. On your wedding day, December 3rd 1921, Mable-Jean, Mary, and Hazel Fortendue."

I clutched the afghan even tighter in my fingers, "Despite their gossiping and initial dislike of me, those girls are awfully sweet," I sighed.

Carlisle rubbed my back, "I know, they really have grown on me, too. You bring out the best in people, my love."

I was about to disagree, but Edward's agreement cut me off, "Yes. You do…" he paused and flicked me a rueful grin, "I can safely say that I'm one of those people."

I shook my head, "Nonsense. You were perfectly sweet before me, I'll have you know."

He raised an eyebrow, "And you know that, how?"

"These things I just know, dear."

He shook his head indulgently and pushed his gift forward, "Me next."

This time, I let Carlisle unwrap the gift and I watched him intently as he did so. When he pushed the lovely gift-wrap off of the present, I caught a glimpse of a beautiful painting in a darling golden frame. It was black and white, two silhouetted side profiles, and you could tell by one single glance that these two people loved each other so very, very much. I was nearly surprised by that, upon closer inspection, these two lovers were unmistakably Carlisle and I. I was more surprised however, that the faces were not painted as I first thought, but rather, written, with many little words in different shades of black, grey and white.

Edward smiled at us almost apologetically, "I hope neither of you mind, but I hear you both thinking all the time, that you wish you could hear what the other is thinking, so I took the liberty of uh," he looked at the painting awkwardly, "Well they're some of the thoughts you've had about one another that have really stuck out to me."

My eyes widened, and then automatically fell down to the picture in my hands, I looked to Carlisle's silhouette, and drunk down the words like an alcoholic in a world without prohibition, _'She's still so beautiful. I know she'll love the lilies_. _Our little family. I love her. Does _she_ too feel the tingling all over her body? Is _she_ too plagued by masses of butterflies in her stomach? Does _she_ want to kiss me as much I as I want to kiss her? I don't want to pressure her, she's only young – I need to protect her. Look at her in the light from the sunset, I've never seen anyone as beautiful as her, and not just outwardly, but inwardly too... how she loves... Nobody loves anybody like she loves us. God really pulled out the stops with her, she's so womanly, she's so wondrous, what an artist the Lord face is so close, I could kiss her, I want to kiss her. Am I going to kiss her? I love her. I truly love her. My heart just skipped a beat. I hope she hugs me on her birthday. Kiss her on her cheek? How do I kiss her on her cheek? Silly thunder, I nearly kissed her. Could it be true as the truest fact, that Esme Anne Platt, tree-climber extraordinaire, possessor of the most caring, loving and selfless soul, actually loves me back? She does. She loves me. She just said it. She loves me. 'I love you,' she said it. Love. Me. I love her, she loves me. Oh, Esme. I have loved you for so long.'_

"I hope I didn't overstep a line," Edward murmured quietly.

I shook my head at the same time that Carlisle did, "Not at all, Edward. Thank you," his voice was low and sincere, I could tell he felt exactly the same way as I.

"Esme?" Edward wondered with a hint of worry evident in his voice, I understood why, my mind had gone somewhat blank.

"Edward," I breathed, "This is… This is beyond words. Thank you, thank you so much."

He grinned, completely satisfied with our acceptance, and then surprised the both of us by standing up.

I felt as confused as Carlisle looked, so I imagined my eyebrows would have been nearly in my hair, and my mouth almost slightly ajar just like his was.

"I best be off," Edward announced.

"This early?" Carlisle wondered.

Edward smirked, "It's nearly dark outside."

Our faces turned to the window – so it was, he was right.

"You two are living in a land of your own," Edward shook his head indulgently, and moved to leave, but he wasn't getting away that easy without a hug.

He laughed as I squeezed him as hard as I could, thanking him for everything he did today. He had such a golden and thoughtful heart, even if he couldn't see it. If my biological son had been allowed the time to grow up, I hoped he would have turned out to be just like Edward.

The bronze haired boy pulled back, and looked me straight in the eye, "That means the world to me," he whispered, "Thank you, mother."

Our next hug saw him clutching me as tightly as he could. When we finally pulled away, and I'd showered his face in kisses, and he mine, then Carlisle surprised him by pulling him into a rare hug.

All was silent in the house, as Edward listened to whatever Carlisle was telling him mentally, and I tried my darndest not to tear up. My sweet little family had so much love, I wanted to wrap my arms around the both of them, but I didn't want to interrupt. The boy's hug ended in some manly patting of each other's backs, and then Edward pulled away and grinned at me.

"Last one," he smirked, and so I pounced on them both, and squeezed them tightly. They both chuckled, and I fervently wanted to stay in that one moment forever.

But the boys soon pulled away, and before I knew it, Carlisle and I were standing on the porch, he with his arms around his waist and me with non-existent tears in my eyes, waving goodbye to Edward as he drove off down the driveway, headed to Chicago.

I leaned back into Carlisle's chest, and he placed a sweet kiss on the top of my head, "I love you, Esme," he murmured.

I turned around in the embrace and grinned up at him, "I love you too."

His lips caught mine in a kiss filled with passion like that of our kisses last night before our impromptu wedding in the forest church. It didn't last long though, he pulled away and grinned.

"I should go and change, those clouds look awfully like snow clouds, and I'd rather not navigate in the snow," he chuckled, "Unless of course, if you'd like to?"

I shook my head, "It's just… I found something for you," I murmured.

He cocked his head to the side, so I pulled him by the hand back into the house, and retrieved the letter from my grandparents and handed it to him.

He looked at it curiously and then back up at me, "This is from your grandparents?" he guessed.

I nodded, "How did you know?"

"One of your journals had a letter from your grandmother in it. This is her writing… but why do you still have this?" His voice was gentle when asked.

I smiled, "I willed myself to forget about it when I was human, and I wasn't planning on giving it to anyone but you, anyway."

His features relaxed into a beautiful grin, "Thank you," he murmured as he placed a soft kiss on my forehead, "I should change."

I nodded, "I have some things to pack."

If he wondered what I was talking about, he didn't ask, so we left to head upstairs. Carlisle wandered off to his old room; he hadn't had time to move anything yet, and I dashed into the bathroom to retrieve a bag and a change of sheets for the bed. I retrieved some of Carlisle's clothes from the pile of recently done washing, and then went to choose a dress to return in.

"You know," I murmured when I opened my full drawers, "You might want to think about bringing your whole dresser in here… there's not a lot of room in this one."

Carlisle chuckled from the other room, "It think that's a wise idea."

By the time I'd packed everything, Carlisle was changed and ready to go.

"The letter wasn't too scary?" I wondered as we descended the stairs.

He chuckled and shook his head, "Not at all. I loved it."

I nodded, and ducked into the living room to grab the afghan for my bag, "That's good."

"What's this?" Carlisle wondered as he picked up a small white card from the floor, "This isn't from the Fortendue's... It's Edward's handwriting."

"What does it say?" I wondered, "It might have fallen from the frame when we unwrapped it."

Carlisle smiled as he read whatever was written on the card, and then he looked up to me and his eyes shone with love as he said, "To the sunshine, he who gives life, and to his darling Earth, she who nurtures it, may happiness forever cloud your lives with infinite silver linings."

My hand flew to my heart automatically, "That boy... he'll be the death of me, I tell you."

Carlisle laughed, and closed the distance between us, wrapping his arms around me as my heart throbbed with love for our son.

After a short while, we broke apart and Carlisle led me out of the house, making sure everything was locked behind us, and then climbed down the porch steps. He turned around to look at me as I wondered what way we'd start running in.

"Feel like a ride?" He wondered.

I cocked my head to the side, "A ride?"

He grinned mischievously, and nodded, "Hop on," he turned around a gestured for me to climb on his back. I giggled but wasted no time in doing what he suggested.

I could run faster than him with my newborn strength, we were both well aware of this, so I knew his offering a ride was all part of the adventure. I loved it that he wasn't just whisking me away to claim me as his mate, but rather, he was taking me on an adventure, just like many times before. And just like those many times, we'd end up so wrapped up in one another, things would escalate – the only difference was that tonight, we would _let_ ourselves get carried away.

Carlisle ran southeast, and I watched the landscape pass by. We didn't talk much, but talk wasn't really needed.

I broke the silence a few times though, "Are we heading into Michigan?" I wondered.

"Yes, m'lady, we are," he murmured, "Are you guessing as to where?"

My knowledge of geography was not limited, I did in fact know of a very interesting place nearby, "Hmmm, perhaps we are headed to Alaska?"

He laughed, "Definitely, yes." His sarcasm matched mine.

All was quiet for a moment, "But honestly, we're going to Texas, aren't we?"

He shook his head fondly, "I know for a fact you like adventure, not danger."

I laughed, "Too true, perhaps the Porcupine Mountains?"

"There we have it!" He exclaimed laughing, "My darling wife is more brilliant than Sherlock Holmes."

Grinning, I kissed his cheek, and let silence envelop us once more. We travelled a little longer until he slowed down and murmured, "Where would you like to go first? There are abandoned mines not far from here, ghost towns near that; there are a few lakes around too, but the little house I found is nearer to the coast."

"What's the most exciting?" I wondered.

"Everything," he grinned.

I laughed, "Okay, I choose… the ghost towns."

He nodded and sped off, so we spent the next few hours traipsing around empty little towns that were beautifully quiet and forgotten about, and stealing every type of kiss imaginable. I managed to lure Carlisle into a mine, but he had to carry me out when I swore I heard it caving in, and I even managed to splash him with the water when we visited the Lake of the Clouds.

Seeing his surprised face he wore when the water hit him, I was sent into a fit of giggles. He ran up and captured me in his arms tickling my sides until I managed to distract him with kisses. They were playful at first but we soon decided that our next stop best be the little house Carlisle had found for us.

He led me by the hand as we headed toward the coast, and the excitement built in my veins. Not the honeymoon excitement – that had been there for a while, but rather, the excitement of seeing the house he'd picked out for us to stay in. I had a thing for houses, and I knew I wouldn't be disappointed.

It was nestled in the middle of the forest, with a tiny dirt path leading up to it. The walls were a rich brown like the trunks of the evergreen tress that surrounded it, and the roof was black. There were two brown windows and a door on the front, and empty flowerbeds next to the path. I could see a stone chimney on the right wall, and thick drapes were blocking view in from the windows.

"What do you think?" he wondered, his deep voice bended in with the night perfectly.

"It's lovely," I murmured, drinking in the sight, falling in love with it more with every minute that went by.

He grinned, "I'm glad to hear," and with that he lifted me off of my feet and managed to open the tall front door. He backed into the room with his eyes on me, and I grinned shyly back up at him.

"You are so beautiful," he breathed and I felt I'd blush again even though I couldn't.

"And so are you," I half teased, but I truly couldn't hide my honesty.

He merely gave me a grin and placed a kiss on my lips, one I extended when he began to pull away, after all, I had such a good opportunity being that close to his face as he held me in his arms. He put me down while our lips were still attached in the heated kiss, and he held me close. When he pulled away his eyes were filled with love.

"Would you like to investigate the house while I make a fire?" he wondered.

I nodded, and smiled, even though I didn't really want to be away from him, I thought it best to clear my head a little, it had started to get a little clouded. I hadn't even noticed that we were in between the living room and the kitchen. To my right were a few couches surrounding a hearth, and to my left was a small kitchen with counters and a table.

In front of me was a short hallway that I walked down. It led to a bedroom, which had a bathroom to the right. The bath was free standing, and there was no toilet. I realised quickly that the house would have no plumbing or electrics, which I was fine with. The bed in the bedroom was a large, comfortable looking thing, but it wasn't as welcoming as mine back home. For a brief moment I wished that we were beginning our honeymoon back home, in a place that I knew.

I quickly vacated the bedroom and returned to the living room where Carlisle was finishing making the fire. I watched as he turned around and smiled at me, but my focus wasn't on his face.

The nerves ravaged my stomach as I watched his body make his way to me. Had I truly never realised how tall and muscular he was before? He was taller and stronger than Charles… No doubt the rest of him would be as well. My stomach lurched.

"Love?" His soft voice drew my eyes up to meet his, and when I saw the compassion, the worry, and the love in his familiar gentle features, a fire I forgot to expect began within me.

I thought perhaps there'd be flames of excitement and desire burning low in my belly, but I didn't think about the fire that would begin in my heart. I loved this man, and I trusted him with all I had. It didn't matter what had happened before, or what would happen next, I trusted Carlisle would take care of me, because he was Carlisle. The single most caring and loving person on Earth. _My husband. _He would keep me safe. The burning in my heart caused me to smile, and he saw the bravery therein my eyes, so he smiled back at me, and as naturally as the Earth turning, or the tide moving, his lips found mine. His hands rested on my hips, and mine tangled in his hair, the kiss itself was sweet, I could feel every ounce of love he had for me in the soft pressure of his lips and the barely there sensation of his hands. The joining of our lips did not last long enough for me, and when he pulled away his eyes were full of questions. He took a deep breath and brushed away a tendril of my hair in a gesture I knew betrayed his nerves, and it was almost as though in an instant, the tables had turned.

"Hi," I whispered smiling up at him, not caring how silly it was.

I watched as the nerves faded from his face and a giant boyish smile took their place, he cocked an eyebrow in amusement, "Hi," he murmured back, his voice was low as it sent shock waves through my entire being.

"How are you?" I grinned and he laughed.

"I'm swell thank you," he gave me a lopsided grin, but his eyes seemed a little rueful, "And a little nervous, if I'm to be honest."

I wrapped my arms around his neck, and stepped closer to his body, standing on my tiptoes as he encircled my figure in his thick arms, "I'll let you in on a little secret," I whispered before kissing his cheek, "Me too."

Grinning, he took my lips in his again, but fiercer this time – more passionately. His entire being was intoxicating, so I ended the kiss before I could get drunk on the taste of him. He kissed the side of my lips, and his mouth traced my jaw down to my neck where he lavished the skin there with thousands of feather light caresses.

"But then," I said thoughtfully as though we were not caught up in a passionate moment, and I grinned at his chuckling as he kissed my neck.

"But then?" He breathed into my skin.

"I realized that it's just us. You and me… And there's nothing to be nervous about."

He pulled back and cocked an eyebrow, "Nothing?"

I shook my head, "Nothing, but nerves always arrive when they're not needed, so it's okay." I shrugged, "But it's nice to know there's nothing to be scared of."

He nuzzled my nose before placing a sweet kiss there, "Nothing," he whispered reverently.

Keeping one arm tightly draped around his shoulders, I brought the other hand around to brush away the hair that endearingly fell into his face, "I love you," I murmured.

He beamed, "As I love you, Mrs. Cullen."

Tangling my fingers into his hair once more, our lips rejoined in their favourite dance. His head tilted to the side a little, deepening the kiss, and mine followed suit, my jaw fell slack when his tongue brushed lightly along my bottom lip, and then new players were once again introduced into our intimate little dance. Our tongues did not fight a war of dominance, but instead choreographed a dance of love, as my husband slowly and carefully stepped backwards, navigating his way closer to the fire. His hands roamed up and down my back, as mine twisted themselves in his hair, my chest feeling as though it would explode with the amount of love I felt for him. We didn't need to breathe, a little gift we made the most of, as our lips remained tightly sealed together. I managed to pull myself closer to him, so our bodies were pressed flush together, and he wrapped his arms tighter around my body with delight. A quiet little moan escaped his throat as our bodies met, and slowly he began to pull away. Slightly confused, I let him.

He rested his forehead against mine and gave me an amused smile at the thousands of questions he saw dancing in my eyes, "I need you to promise me something first," he whispered, his breathing was uneven, as was mine.

I nodded, "Of course."

"Promise me, if it's moving too fast, or if you want to stop, you'll tell me. It's one of my worst fears that you will go along with this because you know it's what I want. And if I hurt you –"

"Carlisle," I tried to protest, but he shook his head.

"If I hurt you, promise me you'll tell me," his eyes were filled with concern, "Please promise me, Esme. It will torture me forever if I hurt you, or if you go along with this when you don't want to."

I placed a soft kiss upon his lips before I nodded, "I promise, but it might surprise you to know, I want this too."

He grinned, and I let out a laugh, and bit my lips mischievously, tilting my head up for a kiss; he looked a little confused but complied with my unspoken request, none-the-less. He'd soon find out my words were true.

Our next kiss once again started off sweet, but it quickly gained heat. It deepened effortlessly, our mouths opening themselves up to the shared bliss of our newest kind of kiss. My senses filled with his scent and I rapidly forgot about everything aside from him. I felt his arms tightening, so I pressed my chest back up against his, my favourite little moan returned mere moments later. He stepped backwards, coming in contact with the couch, before we tumbled down in a flurry of giggles and chuckles. I pulled back and our eyes met, for a long moment we just stared at one another, no words were spoken, but we said more than we ever had, so once again our lips met, and then he changed the way I saw the world forever.

* * *

"_You're sure?" He wondered quietly._

_I nodded, "I'm one hundred percent sure. That was just a chapter, this is my whole story."_

* * *

_Hours Later_

_December 3rd 1921_

My head had found the most heavenly pillow ever created – his chest. We lay on the floor, in our makeshift bed of couch cushions and multi coloured blankets, basking in the heat of the fire. Carlisle's hand drew lazy patterns on my bare back as I did the same on his masculine chest. The only noises that could be heard for miles were the crackling of the fire, the ticking of the clock, the soft wind outside the house and the soft breathing from my husband and I.

"I'd like to destroy that clock," Carlisle murmured softly. I giggled; once again our thoughts had been in sync.

"Such impatient things, clocks," I whispered back.

"Mmmm," his agreement was nothing more than one of the beautiful noises I'd never imagined would come from him, "I'll put it in the forest later."

I snuggled closer to his chest, making sure that the blanket stayed close to my chest. I was not uncomfortable with my husband seeing me disrobed – he'd got a good look already – I merely did not like the feeling of being unclothed. I was far too modest, and timid for that. Carlisle was much the same regarding his masculinity; hence why the blanket covered him from the waist down.

My husband was the most glorious being ever created. I had never thought I'd love him even more than when I walked in the door many hours earlier, yet somehow, the intensity of our love was heightened by our intimacy. There was nothing that could ever tear us apart. Carlisle placed a stray kiss on the top of my head, and I replied by placing one on his muscular chest. He shifted slightly, and I knew he wanted to see my face, to kiss my lips, to start our lovemaking all over again, but the ticking of the clock gave me a sudden idea. I propped myself up with one arm, the blanket came with me, and looked down into his intrigued eyes.

"Close your eyes," I whispered.

He cocked an eyebrow, but when I smiled, he complied. I watched the seconds' hand on the clock tick around the circle face.

"Esme?" He murmured, with a small smile playing about on his lips.

"Shhh," I put my finger on his lips, which he then took up the opportunity to kiss. I giggled as the clock chimed midnight, "All right," I murmured, "You can open your eyes."

His golden eyes caught mine and asked them the question I knew he'd be wondering.

I giggled, "Now, that's the perfect way to begin eternity together."

He raised an eyebrow, confused.

"Well, yesterday, my face was the very last thing you saw, and today it was the very first." I grinned self consciously, "I know that was mawkish, but –" Suddenly his lips were back on mine. Our conversation never lasted very long. We preferred to communicate with our mouths, hands and bodies. That was our newest way to say 'I love you.'

* * *

_I had never thought I'd manage being intimate with someone while looking in their eyes, but watching Carlisle's face as we lay there, our breathing beginning to calm, and our hands roaming, was the best thing I could have hoped for. As long as his eyes were locked on mine, I was not scared at all._

* * *

_Sometime in the Morning_

_December 4th 1921_

The fire was decaying rapidly the next time my head found the cushion of his chest; the smouldering embers were the only remainders of the once raging fire. I could feel the decline in temperature, but it did not bother me. I was the warmest I had ever been, under the covers with Carlisle. My husband had one arm tightly wrapped around me, as he reached behind his head for a pillow to rest his beautiful blonde skull on. He sighed in contentment as he wrapped his other arm around my small frame – small compared to his, that is.

"Would you like me to relight the fire, or are you happy to let it go?" He murmured softly.

I cuddled closer into him, "Let it die. Let's not move."

He chuckled, "I'm glad you chose that option," he placed another soft kiss upon my head, "Let's stay here forever."

I grinned at the thought, what a lovely idea, "Mmmm, please."

"Edward probably wouldn't notice our absence."

"Nor the hospital," I teased.

He groaned, "I do like the hospital."

I laughed jovially, "Then I suppose we'll have to find a balance."

"Hospital, schmospital," he shrugged, "They'll live without me."

I pursed my lips, "I might have to disagree with that one."

He chuckled, "You're probably right, but I do like it here… with you, and … this," he grinned.

I laughed, "We're quite good at it already."

He raised an eyebrow, "Quite?" he queried.

I shrugged, "I was trying to be nonchalant."

"I thought you were teasing me," he winked, "So I thought perhaps I'd half to make you pay for that one, I thought I might have to make you gasp," he whispered scandalously.

"Mm?" I tried to appear uninterested, but I was feeling quite the opposite, "Good gasps, or bad gasps?"

"Definitely the good," he grinned, his lips moved for my neck as I was whisked away by a memory from only hours before.

* * *

_I sighed, surrendering to his lips, and letting my hands roam his back once more, teasing at the top of his drawers this time. I smiled mischievously into his shoulder, as I snuck my fingertips under his waistband. I could feel him grinning as he kissed my neck, so I let my fingers stray lower. He chuckled and retaliated by sneaking his hand up the back of my brassiere. I couldn't stop the gasp that escaped my lips as my skin tingled with desire under his palm, but as soon as the sound escaped my lips his hand was gone, as were his lips, and he was standing a decent foot away from me, looking apologetic. My body ached with the loss of contact._

"_Mm, mm," I shook my head, and reached out for him, "Good gasp," I murmured, and he relaxed in relief, slowly coming back to me._

"_I apologize," he murmured, but I shook my head smiling as I encircled his neck with my arms._

"_Nothing to be sorry for, I love you,"_

* * *

_Another While Later_

_December__ 4th 1921_

"How does it feel to be Mrs. Cullen?" He wondered as he poked at the long dead fire, trying to reincarnate it.

I laughed jubilantly, clutching the thick afghan to my body as I leaned up against the couch, "I can't really describe it. My hair is a mess; I could probably do with a hunt soon, my favourite pair of bloomers looked to be _mauled, _and I've never experienced a happier feeling."

"I am sorry about those bloomers," he murmured, "I don't know how that happened, I thought I was gentle."

I shrugged, "It was probably me, you were gentle when you put them down, but my nails are like claws, I probably swiped them some time."

He chuckled as he stood up from the fireplace and wandered back over to me, I tried to be decent and look at his face… but I really couldn't.

"I _know_ your nails are sharp," he laughed as he dropped down beside me, "Be careful of them, you don't want to ruin this pretty blanket."

I pursed my lips, "Is that your smooth way of inferring that I should dispose of this blanket?" I wondered.

He grinned, "It is."

I laughed, and put the blanket to the side, "Well then, doctor." I purred, "You should have just said."

And together, we continued on to find a slice of heaven in our newly shared eternity.

* * *

_A.N. Hello again! So sorry for the delay, life is a crazy thing isn't it? University has started back up for me, and I have a crazy work load this semester, so I'll try and update once a week, but I don't think I'll be able to do the once every three days-ish like it was in the beginning – so sorry. Bare with me though, I won't abandon this story. I have too much fun with it._

_Thanks for all your reviews! I have more than 300! That is super crazy! You guys are the best! _

_Now, for this chapter: I have a lot of gifts in here, don't I? I did that because I think it really shows a lot about a person – specifically Edward. This was another Edward chapter really, showing a softer side to him. Naw, it's going to break our hearts in 1927, isn't it? (Good, that's what it's suppose to do ;) )_

_If you want to press flowers yourself, tissue paper from the crafts store is probably better than toilet paper, what Esme used. See I wanted her to use tissue paper but I Googled it and apparently they didn't have that back then, and even toilet paper was not overly common, instead the Sears Catalogue was often used for that kind of thing… (Sara, I was going to PM you about this, but I completely ran out of time – I'm sure you'll let me know if the internet has informed me wrong :)__ )._

_And the honeymoon - well next chapter Carlisle will tell you more about the later days of their honeymoon week._

_Hope you enjoy! (Freaking out that I haven't updated in a while? I'll keep you up to date on twitter MMBJfanfic)_

_Much love x_


	47. My Wife

_Chapter Forty-Seven: My Wife_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, December 1921_

_Carlisle_

For as long as I have been able to remember, God was always the most extraordinary thing to me. I marvelled at His every creation, and at the _beauty_ He managed to create. I admired Him so much; I struggled to comprehend the enormity of it, but what I had felt before was nothing compared to what I felt now. God was more of a master than I had ever been able to fathom, because He created my wife. _My wife. _She was more beautiful than I had ever imagined she would be, and I loved her more than I ever thought myself capable of.

Our honeymoon so far was definitely one of the best times of my life, but no moment could ever compare to seeing her walk the aisle in her beautiful dress, then pledge herself to me for eternity in front of the One who created her. Esme may not believe in the Lord, but she lived her life in a way that He would greatly approve of, because my Esme _loved, _and in the passed – I've no idea how many – hours, she had dedicated her time and talent to loving _me_.

I smiled to myself as I traced the bones of her back. I'll not deny I'd first been worried for her when she was changing, I hoped that her slenderness would not result in a look that betrayed a once unhealthy time, but seeing her before me merely showed me that she took care of herself as a human, as much as she could. She lay content on my chest, which was an absolutely incredible feeling, and she drew masterpieces on my shoulder. The slow, rhythmic movement was one of the most calming things I'd ever felt. It was the kind of thing that would send a human to sleep, but I couldn't sleep, nor did I want to. I wanted to memorize every inch of my wife.

My mind wondered as I mapped every plane of her back, and curled my fingers in her smooth ringlets - the kind of ringlets that one could brush without them frizzing, the rare kind of ringlet, that was. I replayed our wedding a thousand times, listening to her over and over again, promise that the rest of her eternity would be intertwined with mine. I watched in perfect clarity as she smiled up at me, love dancing in her warm, but bright golden eyes. I played back every single event of the time that had passed since then, smiling at the memory of the letter from the woman that Esme adored in her human life.

_To the dear man who hold's our treasured Esme's heart,_

_I must first tell you this, my dear, having a heart like Esme's is not a thing that should be taken advantage of. She is a soldier; she will walk through any situation in life with her head held high and her exterior facade strong and unbreakable. It is your job as her husband, to know her like the back of your hand. It's is my job, as a member of her family, to help you all I can. You will know by now that she is a passionate woman, she gives her all into all she does, and therefore she does it well. To be blessed with love is a very fine thing, but to be blessed with Esme's love is so much more. _

_My biggest note to you is that if she cooks you meatloaf, it means she is mad at you – I taught her that one. Nobody likes my mother's meatloaf. If she grows quiet and pensive, she is scared, and it is your job to fix this. If she sighs wistfully, then she is lonely, so hold her. If she grows snappy, she is tired, and the worst thing you can so is patronise her, it will only infuriate her more. If she complains, let her, it is done only in your grace and not in bad taste. If she kisses you, my dear, make sure you kiss her back. If she loves you, never let her doubt that you love her too, and if she ever cries, your embrace will make her all right. She is not your wife to be your carer, just as you are not her husband to be her carer, you are married to be equal. She will be the best of you on your worst days, and the least of you on your best, just as you will be for her. Care for each other, and love each other as though everyday is your last. _

_Enjoy your life together, my dear, as much as you might wish it will, it does not last forever._

_Although I do not know you personally, my granddaughter loves you, so I do too._

_With all my love,_

The letter was signed with an unintelligible signature, but it was Esme's grandmother, I knew from the handwriting. In Esme's journals there had been quite a few letters from the woman she adored and idolised. I loved those letters; almost as much as I loved the thoughts that Esme had covered the pages in. There were dark thoughts, sad thoughts, and scary thoughts, but those were few and far between because as she said she '_would rather remember those times that occurred in the happiness rather than revisit a time of shadows and dark nights.'_ The dark parts of Esme were important to me also, for they too played a part in who she was. That had partially been my motive to informing her that if she ever felt the need to discuss her abuse with anyone, I hoped that person would be me.

"_But wouldn't that upset you, Carlisle?" she wondered with a perplexed expression on her pretty features._

_I had sighed from my seat behind my desk, "Yes, but I'll admit I'd rather know, than know someone else knew and I didn't, but if it's something you wouldn't like to discuss, I will respect that completely, my love."_

_She sighed, and moved from her spot near the doorway of the study, to the chaise which was positioned in front of the fire, "It's not something that I want to relive, but I can't deny I'm frightened that it will rear it's ugly head when you and I … become intimate, It's not that I don't trust you, Carlisle, I do, I truly do, but I fear, perhaps, if I do not show the darkness the light of day, it will always haunt me. Perhaps I'm merely hoping that I can liken my past to a mythical vampire – burned by the sun, or the Wicked Witch of the West – melted by water. I do feel it is ready to be said, then accepted, and then, finally moved on from. Forgotten, and forgiven? Perhaps never, but my best is all I can give."_

_I stood up and moved from my spot behind my desk to join her on the chaise. _

"_If you are entirely sure, my love?"_

_She nodded, "But where do I even begin?"_

Most every moment that found Esme and I home alone would be spent discussing her years of abuse. It was a relief when it ended, and I could feel she felt much better for it all. She couldn't remember everything, but she could remember enough.

Another reason for my desire to know was that I wanted to avoid anything that might cause a bad memory to arise. I needed to be gentle with my wife, but judging from her lovely contented smile, I had been.

"Would you like me to relight the fire?" I wondered, I'd all ready done it once before, and we didn't really need it for the warmth or the light – we could see in the dark just fine, but it was all ready light outside.

"Only if you like, I'm fine," she murmured, her breath tickled my chest.

"Does it seem a little silly to you that we haven't even been in the bedroom yet?" I wondered with a slight chuckle to myself. She laughed and propped herself up on her elbow, making sure the blanket followed – my wife was as modest as they come.

"Not really." She paused, as a few strands of her caramel hair tumbled into her face, "I'll tell you a secret, I've been avoiding asking you about the bed."

My brow furrowed, "Why is that?"

She shrugged, and studied my hair curiously, "You suit this dishevelled look," she grinned, "And about the bed, I don't know truly, something about it didn't really feel welcoming when I first saw it. Perhaps it was the darkness, or being alone in a new place. I don't know, maybe it just doesn't have the canopy of our bed at home. I'm sure I won't feel any bad feelings toward it with you there," she tapped my nose with her finger and smiled at me fondly.

I returned her smile, brushing the hair away from her eyes, "I don't mind staying here for a while longer, love. Your wish, my command."

She grinned mischievously; "Well, in that case," she murmured, moving a little closer to claim the kiss I'd been all-too-willing to give.

I pulled away suddenly, and she looked at me in confusion.

"I have something for you," I remembered, "It's in my trouser pocket."

She laughed and pulled away, "You didn't have to get me anything more than you've all ready given me."

I pushed back the blanket to retrieve my trousers and gave her a quizzical look over my shoulder, "What was that?"

She smirked, whether at my question, or my bare skin, I've no idea.

"Eternal happiness," she replied simply, running her free hand through her tangled curls, "In the form of _you_."

I beamed back at her as I reached the expensive black fabric, and fished through the pocket before grabbing the small present. It fit in my closed fist, which was good – she wouldn't see it.

I crawled back to her as she smirked to herself, but I didn't feel self-conscious, I loved her too much for that. When I reached her I pulled the beige afghan up to my waist, so she'd look at my face.

She gave me an impish grin, "I'm sorry, I just… I don't know what's come over me… Can I blame it on the newborn?"

She laughed self-consciously, and I stroked her cheek, "Don't worry love, I know exactly how you feel. I can't even begin to comprehend it either."

Her features softened, "Good. Now," her eyes fell to my hand, "What's this? I can't deal with the suspense."

I laughed and brought my hand in between us. She immediately held it in both of her hands and tried to pry my fingers open.

I laughed, "You are very eager."

She looked up at me quickly, her eyes were alight with excitement, "I am." She went back to focussing on my hand then, so I let my fingers unfold like a flower blooms, to reveal a small necklace with a single pendant that I carved.

"Carlisle," she whispered, her eyes rose back to mine, wide with awe, "Did you make this?"

I nodded, "I didn't know what to get you, so when you found my father's cross in the garage, and you wanted to see something that I'd carved, the idea sprung to mind."

She ran her fingers along the smooth surface of the tiny wooden cross with the red gemstone at the bottom in wonder.

"I thought it nice that the cross brought us both peace, and I want you to always have that peace, I have it always, in my faith in the Lord, but I know that you don't share that same faith with me. So, I thought, perhaps, you might like a homage to the part of me too… and the ruby, well it's your favourite, and your birthstone. It could symbolise a lot of things. I know you all ready have your locket that you love, which Edward has taken to Chicago with him, by the way – he stole it from your jewellery box – because he said that he wanted a part of you with him, but I think he has ulterior motives," she laughed, "But now that you're my wife, I'm going to spoil you so much, forever won't be long enough for you to wear everything."

She smiled and shook her head fondly, placing a quick kiss on my lips, "You truly do astound me. Who would have thought, when we met ten years ago that we'd end up like this. I dreamed of it, of course, but dreams are just wishful things."

"But sometimes dreams, just like wishes, come true, my love," I whispered back.

She grinned, and her eyes lit up with an all familiar gleam, "I do love that necklace, but how about you put it somewhere safe so we don't destroy that, and then you can make my dreams come true again, hey?"

I laughed and complied, perhaps a little too quickly. She laughed at my eagerness, but the sound soon morphed into something different entirely.

* * *

_Some time later..._

We eventually made it to the bed, and it was such a foreign sensation to feel sheets on my bare skin after centuries and centuries without such a feeling. It was not something that I actually thought I would ever feel, let alone with a woman by my side – let alone with Esme! As the hours passed and day turned into night, then day again, countless times, I truly thought I could stay there for eternity.

"Do you know what day it is?" Esme murmured at one point.

I shook my head, "Not really. I think a few days have passed."

She laughed, "You have a shift early Sunday morning."

I groaned, "Sunday is too soon… but Sunday is not yet."

She laughed as I flipped us over and began showering her face in kisses once again.

Perhaps I should have been ashamed that it was nearly the end of our honeymoon and I'd done nothing but keep my wife indoors the whole time, but I'd not heard her protest once.

* * *

_Some more time later..._

I leaned back against the headboard, as she sat atop of me, brushing the hair from my face. She smiled to herself at something, so I cocked an eyebrow.

She laughed, "As much as I hate talking about Edward when we're on our honeymoon, this is perhaps one of the only times I can think of bringing it up without him overhearing us."

I raised an eyebrow, "Of course, what it is on your mind?"

"Christmas," she smiled, "Is just over two weeks away. Have you got him anything?"

I shook my head, "Do you have any ideas?"

She bit her lip and looked down a little self-consciously, before nodding.

I stroked her cheek, "You can tell me."

"It's a little extravagant," she admitted, and I grinned.

"Edward does like quirky and extravagant gifts," I encouraged.

She laughed and nodded, "He does, he also likes the idea of planes…"

A grin slowly spread across my face, "Yes," I replied suspiciously, "He does."

"Well I was thinking we could get him a book on how to fly a plane…"

"…And?"

"And give him a bookmark…"

"Would this be a special bookmark?"

She nodded, "I have a question…"

"Of course, ask away, my darling," I smiled at her curious expression.

"Can you hire planes for civilian use?" She wondered, and I beamed.

"I'm sure you can, he would absolutely _love_ that."

She giggled, "Well I thought we could bookmark a particular page with a piece of paper that informed him of the plane."

I considered it; "We'd have to avoid thinking about it around him."

She nodded eagerly, "And we could pretend to slip, and allude to something grand and exciting, so when he sees the book, he gets confused."

I laughed, and my heart burst with adoration for her, "You're cheeky. I like it."

She winked, "I know."

Grinning, I moved to kiss her neck. She let her head loll to the side, "So what do you think?" she whispered.

"I think I love you. Would you like me to show you?"

"Mmmm," she murmured, "I think I would."

* * *

_December 9th 1921_

Saturday came all to quickly. We both unwillingly parted as dawn broke, deciding to bathe and have a quick look at the surrounding scenery before we headed home. Our honeymoon was all too short.

Esme was in the bedroom, making the bed, as I boiled the water for the bath. Her job was a quicker one than mine, so once she was done; she came to stand in the doorway, wearing the afghan like a dress.

"I forgot how long that takes," she murmured.

I merely nodded in reply; she was too beautiful standing in the rising light in nothing but a blanket with her hair tumbling over her shoulders, I struggled to form a reply. I was a very lucky man.

"Perhaps you should only do it for one bath then," she murmured with a small grin on her lips.

I nodded, without thinking, "I can use the water after you," I replied absentmindedly.

She chuckled, "Or _with _me, your choice."

My eyes widened slowly, having not considered such an option before, and an involuntary grin spread across my lips, "I think that is a grand idea, oh wise wife of mine."

She laughed and disappeared back into the bedroom as I finished heating the first of many buckets of water. It took quite a while for the bath to be filled, but once it was I eagerly slipped in as she waited from the doorway giggling to herself. She joined me soon afterwards with a bar of soap in her hand. She relaxed back into my arms, her head falling back to rest upon my shoulder, as I lay my hands on her stomach.

"How long can we stay?" She breathed.

"A little longer," I replied just as quietly, feeling as at peace as possible.

"And how long will we stay in Ashland?" she queried.

I was taken a little by surprise, but I probably shouldn't have been, for my wife never missed a thing, "Perhaps until the end of the year."

"That's so soon," she murmured, "You should have told me earlier."

"Did Edward bring it up?" I wondered.

She shook her head ever so slightly, "No, darling. I can tell these things, but don't worry, I don't mind. I'm quite looking forward to the adventure with my two favourite boys."

"Are you really?"

"Yes," she breathed, "I love you both, and I love our adventures."

"But won't you miss Ashland? Our home?" I asked doubtfully.

"Of course I will," she spoke louder with a smile in her voice, "But I understand that our lifestyle requires us to move constantly, and I'm all right with that. It won't be too hard to make another house feel like a home, and as long as we all have each other, I daresay all shall be fine."

I sighed, "That is quite a relief." I placed a soft kiss on her tender cheek, taking a moment to marvel at her beauty in the morning sunlight that filtered through the small bathroom window, "I worried you might not want to leave."

She opened her eyes, which had darkened with thirst over the last few days, and smiled tenderly at me, her hand reached up to caress my cheek, "Oh, my lovely husband, so long as I have you, I shall always have a home to come back to."

I grinned – widely at her this time – and leaned in a little closer for a sweet and simple kiss.

* * *

_Sometime Mid-Morning..._

It didn't turn out to be quite as sweet or simple as I'd planned, but I was happy with the end result, regardless. The bathroom floor was covered in water, and the bath looked to be at low tide, but none of it mattered, for my wife sat across from me, at the other end of the bath, laughing splendidly with me.

She tossed the soap my way, and I caught it before it hit my face, "Did he really wear a purple and green suit to meet the lawyer?"

"Oh, yes." I chuckled, "It served its purpose too, the poor man was too aghast at Edward's fashion sense to pay much attention to what he was signing. It didn't help that Edward continuously slipped in and out of Portuguese and pretended to have a twitch in his shoulder every four and a half minutes. The poor man was shocked into an absolute state!"

"I cannot imagine Edward doing that!" She laughed, "Nor can I imagine you allowing it."

I shrugged, "Well I had no other plan," I let out a chuckle.

She sighed wistfully, "What is Chicago like?" she wondered.

"It's a big city, of course, bigger than Duluth, so it's busy… I'll take you someday, I promise."

She nodded, "But not for a while."

I agreed, "Not for a while, I might get recognised."

"Speaking of places you might get recognised," she murmured, catching the bar of soap I tossed her, "Have you thought of anywhere we might move to next?"

I nodded, "I've been keeping an eye out for job vacancies, and there's one particular job in Canada that might turn into something more, which would warrant travel to the continent."

Her eyes widened, "Europe?"

I nodded, "The hospital is in Halifax, it's a small, private hospital, and they have other ones scattered throughout Europe and Asia, they seem to be needing someone to tour around conducting quality control, and practising all over the place. I thought I might apply for that hospital, and then try to work my way into that job."

She beamed back at me, "That would be perfect. I can't see why they wouldn't love you, you're the best doctor in the world."

I chuckled, "You have to say that, I'm your husband, but we mustn't –"

"Get our hopes up, of course not," she finished with a smile, "But still, a girl can dream," she winked.

I grinned, "Of course, and speaking of dreams, you could even take some classes at the local college up there, if you wanted? And we could buy a little house that needs a great deal of love?"

She smiled and ducked her head, "Carlisle, you spoil me."

I shrugged, "Speaking of which, I'll need to add your name to the accounts, so you can withdraw money whenever you like, and you'll not need to ask Edward or I first."

Her eyes widened, "Pardon me?"

"At the bank," I clarified, "So you can buy whatever you like."

"Your money?" She asked a little dumbfounded.

"Our money," I corrected, "We're married now. We share everything."

She shook her head once, "But… You earned that."

I grinned, "Yes, and if I shall have my way, you will spend it."

She eyed me curiously for a moment, before a mischievous sparkle came to her eyes, "You are far too good to me, Carlisle," she murmured as she made her way over from the other side of the bath.

* * *

_Later in the day..._

She ran over her checklist under her breath, and I simply grinned down at her from my spot near the doorway.

"What are you smirking at?" She wondered.

I laughed, "I'm not smirking, love."

She put her hands on her hips, and raised her eyebrows at me. She was heartbreakingly beautiful standing in her navy blue dress with sheer sleeves, her wet hair was tied back into a loose not at the back of her head, and she couldn't quite stop the smile from spreading across her face.

"You are," she insisted.

I shrugged, "I just find you beautiful."

Her smile flourished and she sighed, "Oh darling, please stop making it so difficult to leave this little house."

I chuckled, "Perhaps I should stand outside then?"

"No," she shook her head, "I've not forgotten anything. Let's go."

I opened the door, and she flawlessly glided through it, smiling up at me as she passed. The ruby of her wooden necklace caught the dim light from outside and tried, in vain, to outshine her smile.

I beamed at her, and she reached up to touch my lips, "That's my favourite smile," she whispered, grinning in awe.

I followed her outside like a lost puppy, and secured her hand in mine as we navigated the brown, winter forest, heading for home.

We stopped for a short time, once again, at the Lake of Clouds. She swore it all to memory so she could draw it later, and maybe even paint it because she loved it. She refused to go in any more mines in fear that they'd cave in on us and we'd be late home, but I knew that she was hyperaware that darkness would only serve to enhance the need we had for each other.

I was looking forward to seeing Edward when we reached home, but I dreaded the torture we might put him through with our indecent thoughts. I would have to get better at changing my line of thought to spare him.

Esme wandered through the ghost towns thoughtfully considering each empty dwelling and describing to me how she would restore them all to their former glory. I watched her eyes light up as she talked of colours that did not have names of the conventional colours I knew, and architectural elements I'd never come across in all of my nearly three-hundred years, but I knew that if she was allowed free reign over all of the tiny houses, she would create some of the most beautiful houses ever made. She had the gift of a true design eye, my wife.

When she finished mentally restoring the final house, I swept her back up onto my back, and sprinted back toward our own home. Eager to have the comforts of the house she had turned into a sanctuary, and possibly even a few more moments alone with the extraordinary woman that I was able to call my wife.

I fervently hoped our living arrangements for the following months wouldn't cause undue tension between my new family, and I knew I would be required to resort to using my peculiar aptitude for self-restraint many times in the future, but it would be worth it. I was a patient man. I'd been waiting for company for over a quarter of a millennia, a few hours, or a day couldn't really compare to that, could it?

* * *

_A.N. Hello there, ever faithful readers! Time has truly begun to escape me recently, so I apologise for the wait for this chapter. I know it's short, and nothing much happens aside from the missing private moments in there, but I wanted a light and happy honeymoon for Carlisle and Esme, soon enough they'll have to face some struggles, so they deserve their happiness while it lasts. I really wanted this chapter to be simple and almost 'stripped back' in a way. So Carlisle described very little, his entire attention was focussed on Esme, and I hope I conveyed that here. The chapter was supposed to be simple :)_

_Now, as those of you who are familiar with the Official Illustrated Guide will know, Esme is drawn wearing a crucifix necklace, so you have my reasoning behind that here. Her locket from her grandparents will play a bigger part further on in the Faith &amp; Love series, rectifying something about the Saga that I didn't particularly favour. But that shall be a mystery for now._

_Speaking of mysteries, I must ask all of you, as we enter into the final home stretch of this story - is there anything in any chapter that I have written about, which hasn't found resolution, but instead, left you wondering? There is only one (aside from the locket) that springs to my mind, but this will also come up at a later date. If there is anything you think I've forgotten, don't hesitate to tell me in a review or PM :) _

_Thank you all once again for your continued devotion, and I love your reviews more than anything. _

_Much love xx_


	48. Honeymooners

_Chapter Forty-Eight: Honeymooners_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, December 1921_

_Esme_

Edward wasn't home when we arrived back to the dark little farmhouse we called home. It was a bittersweet return for my husband and I, for we were glad to be back in our familiar place, but with the familiar place came a sense of requirement for propriety, and neither of us fancied that too much at all.

Not knowing when our son would return, Carlisle and I headed to the library, where he determinedly found a book to read and I checked the flowers we had pressed on our wedding night. I left him for a short while to put our washing in the washroom, but I decided against washing it right then, for I already missed him and I needed an activity to do while I waited for him to return from work. I returned to the library with the most innocent of intentions, to read a book or something like that, but I ended up in the most compromising position on his lap, and we came to the mutual decision that we should probably relocate upstairs. I'd like to think I was hoping Edward wouldn't return anytime soon to catch us, but honestly in those moments, I don't think I even cared. So the remainder of the afternoon, the evening, and a great portion of the night, saw Carlisle and I tangled in the sheets of the bed we would now share as our own. It was like a sanctuary, with the billowing white canopy that fell to the floor, drawn all around the bed, and blocking out the world. Nobody existed aside from Carlisle and I. The world did not turn, and nothing mattered, aside from the way he looked at me with an awe, and reverence, which I was only beginning to grasp that I deserved to accept. Our closeness, and the fact that we'd blocked out the world made it all the much harder to let him go when time came for him to ready for his shift.

He rolled over onto his back and groaned, "Maybe I could take some more time off, claim I have a serious disease."

I laughed, and crawled my way onto his chest, "Edward will be home soon anyway, I wonder where he is?" Worry seeped into my tone.

"He'll be fine, love." Carlisle murmured, rubbing my arm comfortingly, "He's a good driver, and a good man. He's probably intentionally keeping away to give us more time and space."

I huffed, "Well he can't stay away forever."

Carlisle smirked, and raised an eyebrow, "Is that a hint that you'd rather not spend all day in bed with me?"

I laughed and shook my head, "Nonsense. I would spend forever in bed with you if you'd let me. But I'll not deny I miss him dearly, despite this passed week being the very best week I've ever experienced."

"The very best?" He smirked.

I swatted his chest, "Don't you start getting a big head now, it's unattractive."

He smiled to himself mischievously as if he had something witty to say but thought better of it, "You're right, of course, my love. I shall try my best to keep my head small."

I narrowed my eyes, completely missing his joke, but he just shook his head, "You joining me in the bath probably wouldn't help me, would it?"

I giggled, "Probably not, although you know I'd love to."

He sighed and nodded, placing a soft kiss on my waiting lips before he moved to get out of bed. His eyes fell on the clothes we had scattered all over the room as he searched for something to wear. I watched his face as it dawned on him that every article of his clothing was ripped, and his dresser was still in the other room.

He flicked a glance back at me, "You're not going to let me take the sheet, are you?"

I pursed my lips to stop from giggling and shook my head as I pulled the sheet closer to my chest, "You'll just have to run and hope Edward doesn't come home." I couldn't help the giggle that escaped my lips.

He grinned, "You are trouble, aren't you?"

I merely laughed, "You'd better run fast."

He sighed, and stood up, I watched on shamelessly, which got him laughing too.

"How about this, doctor, you run to the bathroom, and I'll get dressed then fetch you some clothes?"

He eagerly nodded, and ran out the door. I stayed in bed for a short while longer, listening to the water run, before I got up, dressed and chose him some clothes like I promised. He was getting out of the bath when I entered the bathroom, and after helping him dress – which he insisted was the exact _opposite_ of my job – he went to move his dresser into the room we now shared, and I went to dispose of our torn clothing. At the rate we were going both Carlisle's, and my wardrobes would fit in one set of drawers! He'd never let that happen though, for every shirt he ripped he'd insist on buying me five more.

I was in the washroom putting the clothes into a bag when I felt his strong arms wrap around me from behind, "I put my dresser on the opposite wall from yours. I'm not sure what you want to do with it, but feel free to organise it all however you want."

I grinned mischievously to myself as he covered my neck with gentle kisses, "Do you mean I can colour code your underwear?"

He chuckled, "My underwear is all the same colour, love."

"Darn it," I sighed, "I was looking forward to your expression when you saw that… Maybe I'll just have to colour code your books."

He froze for a moment, and I had to bite back my laughter, "Oh, I, uh, well…"

I laughed and shook my head, knowing fully well he liked his library just the way that it was, "I'm only teasing you, Carlisle. I know better than to touch the books. Anything but the books!"

"You can touch them…" He grinned into my shoulder in relief.

"I just have to put them back where I found them."

"Well, yes. That is preferable," he admitted, as the clock signalled the beginning of a new hour. Carlisle groaned, "Now I really do have to think about going. I did hope that Edward would be home before I left for work."

Worry and panic returned to my system, "You don't think something happened to him, do you? I –"

But Carlisle shook his head and turned me around to face him, he cupped my cheeks and placed sweet kisses all over my face before he pulled back and looked me dead in the eye, "Edward is fine, I'm sure. There are many reasons that he's yet to return home, and not one of them involves him staying away indefinitely."

I sighed, his words still did not ease all of my worry, "I know you're right, and I know I'm behaving irrationally, but –"

"But nothing. You're his mother, and you love him, and this is what you do. It's all right, Esme. But as your husband, it's my job to try and calm you down when you look as though you're about to have a panic attack."

"Is that even possible for vampires?" I wondered.

Carlisle considered this for a moment, as I watch him intently. His mouth pulled into a slight frown as he cocked his head to the side and gazed out the window. His golden eyes caught the light of the sunrise – which, as per usual, was marred by the ever-present cloud cover – and his golden hair picked up the slightest tinge of pink from it too. I could not possibly love this man more than I all ready did, and he could not possibly get any more beautiful than he all ready was.

He shrugged, "Perhaps. I don't _think_ so. I'm more inclined to believe we freeze when we go into shock, but I'll not say it's _impossible_. Everyone is different."

His eyes fell back to me and he smiled a tender smile, "You suit sunrises," he murmured.

I grinned, "As do you. I was just thinking that, actually."

He smiled at me for a little while longer, until he sighed a very small, and sad sigh.

I reach up to stroke his cheek, "Your shift isn't too long," I murmured, trying to reassure both him and I.

He smiled and shook his head, "It's not that. Well… It is partially that, it was more… I wish we could live somewhere sunny for once."

I cocked my head to the side in question and he smiled, gingerly touching my hair, "Your hair goes gold – not my light blonde kind of gold, but the deep gold, like real gold, like bullions, or jewellery – when the sun hits it. It's breathtaking."

I smiled bashfully, and my eyes automatically fell upon the floor as I murmured my thanks, "Perhaps one day we'll figure out a way."

"Perhaps?" He queried, grinning, "I think one day we will _definitely_ find a way, and your hair will be shining brilliant gold each and every day, and no one will notice the prismatic skin."

I laughed and stood up on my tiptoes to place a kiss on his lips, "You are more charming than a fairytale prince."

"More real too, I daresay," he winked, and enveloped me in a tight hug.

"And more cheeky," I laughed, hugging him back just a fiercely.

He buried his face in my hair, and held onto me for dear life for quite some time, "I don't want to let you go," he whispered.

I sighed into his chest, "Nor do I, but I'll be here when you get back."

"Always?" he wondered, in an uncharacteristic show of some kind of insecurity he'd managed to hide well.

"Always." I confirmed definitely, and he pulled away to place one last kiss upon my lips before sighing and saying that he'd really better go.

I followed him out into the hall and helped him into his jacket, he laughed as I wrapped him up warmly in his scarf and insisted he put his warmest gloves on, but I told him off for laughing at me, after all I was just being a good wife.

"You're a brilliant wife," he beamed wrapping me in a tight hug once more.

I laughed, "A brilliant wife who is making you brilliantly late."

It was harder than I thought it would be, watching him leave out the front door as I remained in the hallway. The only thing that kept me from running outside after him and begging him to stay was the faint sound of tyres on the road nearing our driveway.

Tyres I'd know anywhere.

The Duesenberg.

_Edward._

My solemn heart erupted with joy as the car sped onto the driveway and flew down the gravel path. I dashed into the sitting room and watched out of the window by the piano as the ivy green car flew passed the house and toward the garage. Finally, our family was together once more. I resisted the urge to run out and greet Edward, for he deserved time alone with his father, and I was certain that my presence at the reunion would only cause Carlisle to take the day off work, and then we'd never become used to being away from one another. I could never take Carlisle away from his work. He loved it far too much for me to do that.

I tried not to listen to their conversation in the garage once Edward had parked the car and hopped out, giving his father a quick embrace, so as a distraction I wandered back to the washroom and ran some water to soak our washing in. The small room was all ready beginning to take on some of the musty smell from the sheets and clothes that I had sitting in the bucket. I opened the window and prayed that the smell would leave before Edward came in. I needn't make it more awkward for him than it was all ready bound to be. I'm sure he'd seen Carlisle and I both disrobed before, but those images would have been through our own eyes, and seeing through a lover's eyes would be a much stranger thing. Especially since we were his parental figures.

I tried my best to change my line of thought to an easier one for Edward to stomach, so as I added a lovely smelling soap to the soaking fabric I wondered how my son's trip had been.

My attention was averted once more when I heard the engine of the Cadillac start up and footprints sprinted toward the house. I dashed out of the washroom just as Edward opened the door. He stood in the doorway with a smile upon his face, wearing a lovely brown suit that somehow made his wayward bronze hair more brilliant, or perhaps it was just the morning light.

"Edward!" I exclaimed as I ran toward him. He shut the front door as the Cadillac zoomed passed and opened his arms widely for me to run into.

"Esme, mother!" He beamed as he held me tightly, and placed a kiss upon the top of my head. He took a deep breath of my scent, I knew it reminded him of home, just like the smell of my own mother would, but abruptly, he cleared his throat and stepped back, giving me an odd look. I raised my eyebrows in confusion, trying my best not to feel hurt.

"You smell like Carlisle," he stated.

I couldn't help the small smile that spread across my lips, "Is that a bad thing?" I wondered.

He shook his head, but shrugged at the same time, "It's a… new thing. Don't get me wrong, you smell nice…" he murmured, "Lovely, actually, it's just not what I'm used to."

I grinned up at him, "Well, I apologise, but it's something you'll have to adjust to."

He laughed, catching the teasing tone of my thoughts and words.

"I'm just doing the washing, have you any? Then we must sit down, and you have to tell me everything about Chicago, and what happened."

He grinned, and picked up a bag that sat at his feet, I'd never noticed it before.

"Washing," he smiled bashfully, "I don't mind doing it. Please don't think I brought it back for you to do because I'm incompetent, I just –"

I raised my eyebrows, "You know I don't think that."

He laughed to himself quietly as I dashed off to the washroom and quickly put his clothes in to soak with the others. I'd scrub them later.

He was waiting in the sitting room for me when I returned, so I sat down opposite him, and brought my feet up underneath me, in a fashion my mother had always scolded.

He grinned at me tenderly and I replied the smile, "So how did it go?" I wondered, "Did you get everything sorted?"

He nodded, "My relative – he never actually told me how he was related, I assumed he must be an uncle of some sort, but now I'm not too sure – was extremely surprised to see me, and my lawyer was quite relieved to be honest, he'd been bombarded with letters from this strange man for months. It was rather comical seeing his face when he saw me, and how he complimented me about my growing up, looking more sophisticated, and what not –"

"Is that because you weren't wearing your green and purple suit, and you'd somehow overcome your twitch in your shoulder every four and a half minutes, as well as your tendency to slip in and out of Portuguese?" I interrupted.

Edward gave me a wry look, "Carlisle told you that?"

"Yes," I laughed, trying not to recall him sitting in the bathtub laughing.

Edward screwed up his face, and I mentally apologised, covering my thoughts with mental humming.

"Much better, may I continue?"

"Please do," I nodded feverishly, my control slipping.

Edward shook his head tolerantly, and plunged back into his story, "So this strange relative of mine spent a great deal of time trying to convince the lawyer that I wasn't Edward Masen, and I was just an imposter who was trying to squander the family money, but of course, the lawyer knew me, so he knew this was untrue. We let the man have his fun though, he marched around the room waving his hands about like some ill educated hawker, even knocking things off benches from time to time, but we listened to him, and all of his empty threats about taking us to court. I knew it wouldn't stand up, my father had been a lawyer after all. I reminded the man of this fact after a short time and then he quietened, realising that I was indeed Edward Masen. He got up and left as soon as he could, it was all rather comical, but I was glad it was over so quickly, it allowed me to sort a few things out with my lawyer, namely my own last will and testament… which, I hope you don't mind, I all ready ran is by Carlisle in the garage and he said that it was all right by him, but he suggested that perhaps I should mention it in a family discussion, which I don't see the point of… I left my money to Edward Cullen… The son of Esme and Carlisle Cullen."

At first I couldn't understand the reason behind the hesitance but it didn't take long to click, "Of course that's all right, Edward. You know that Carlisle and I think of you as our son, anyway."

He nodded grinning, "Thank you, I didn't want to cause undue tension or anything of the sort by overstepping any boundary. But it all allows me to inherit my money once more when the need be."

"A smart idea," I commended, smiling warmly at my son, "What else did you do?"

"We got talking to business then, and I've been thinking," Edward paused, "You really should consider painting to sell, Esme. I think it would be good for you. A hobby with a purpose, and I know you've no need to be financially independent, but I know you and I know how you think. You'd like to be helping with everything – including money – wouldn't you?"

I was shocked for a moment, at how quickly our topic of conversation changed, but my eyes soon drifted down to my hands with a surge of emotion somewhat akin to shame. I stared at my hands, unable to deny his words.

Slowly, I nodded, "I know it seems silly, but I think it would make my days away from him easier to bear. Don't get me wrong, he's my whole life, you both are, but forever is a long time to be sitting around waiting for you both to get home, isn't it?"

Edward chuckled, and nodded, "Yes, it is."

"I wouldn't know what to paint though. You and Carlisle are my favourite subjects, and I can't very well paint and see you. That wouldn't be safe. I'm better at people than I am at landscapes. I suppose I could practise." I inwardly cringed at the thought of my boys staring at a horrid attempt of mine at a landscape.

"You are aware that one of your landscapes is hanging in the entryway, yes?"

I nodded, and let out a laugh, "Yes, but forests are the exception. I just…" I trailed off bashfully.

"You don't want Carlisle to see something that is less than satisfactory?"

I nodded, "Edward, he collects masterpieces. He loves art."

"Even more since you joined the family."

"I don't want to disappoint him… Or myself."

Edward sighed and shook his head, "Do you not understand how he adores you so?"

"I do," I insisted.

He raised an eyebrow, "If Carlisle was to come home and say that he lost a patient in surgery, would you be disappointed in him?"

"Of course not!" I exclaimed having taken offence to Edward's implication.

"The scenario is the same. If you painted an unattractive picture, he'd not think any less of you than you would if he lost a patient."

I sighed, "Except my problems seem silly compared to that."

He shook his head, "Esme, you know I didn't meant that."

I smiled, "I know Edward. I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."

He offered me a consoling expression, "It's all right, Esme. You miss him. I understand. I could have worded my sentences a little better. It's completely your choice whether or not you want to paint, and what you want to paint There's no rush – we have forever."

I nodded, "Of course, thank you." I sighed, "I really should do the washing soon."

He grinned and nodded, before standing up, "I might go out for a hunt, do you need to go?"

I shook my head, "Carlisle and I went last night."

"All right," he nodded, walking to me, "I'll see you soon."

I smiled tenderly up at him, _Stay safe._

He chuckled, "Always," he murmured as he kissed the top of my head on his way out.

I stayed on the couch for a short time staring out into the distance and listening to Edward's footsteps retreat. Once all was silent, I grew restless, so I made my way back out to the washroom to occupy myself. I scrubbed the washing as roughly, yet gently, as I could, making sure not to damage the delicate fabric. My mind wandered back to my conversation with Edward, and after seven days of complete and utter bliss the unpleasant emotions that the conversation awakened were a shock to my system. I missed Carlisle even more in those moments; so much so, I was tempted to run to the hospital just to see him. I knew Edward didn't mean for me to feel the way I did, and I knew I needed to overcome the irrational feelings of little worth (perhaps truly, the emotions were so strong because I thought I _had_ overcome them, and this was showing me that I _hadn't_) but I was at a loss as to how. It didn't take long for my vampire mind to find a resolve.

I finished scrubbing the delicate garments and sheets, before proceeding to wring them out. Housework made me feel useful, and the feeling was nice. Once the washing was wrung dry, I ran upstairs, and changed into one of Carlisle's old shirts and my old skirts. I took a moment to bask in his scent, and my mood improved enough to stick a smile on my face. I tied my curls in a messy knot and dashed back down for the washing, which I took out to the garage to hang on the washing line.

Once everything was swaying slightly in the slight breeze that came through the cracks in the closed garage door, I briefly checked on my mice, which were huddling together in their hay bail, and then pulled together every scrap of wood I could find, with a box of nails and a hammer – although the hammer wasn't at all necessary. I picked out the right lengths of wood, and fashioned them into an easel, before proceeding to create a great many frames to stretch my canvases on.

Edward was right – I should paint.

Determination coursed through my veins as I picked it all up, and carried it out into the cold Wisconsin day. It had started to rain, but the clouds were white enough to hint at snow, even though the frozen water would never be able to set on the ground thanks to the presence of all the liquid water. I ran as fast as I could inside, trying my best not to get the wood wet. Thanks to vampire speed, I only spotted two raindrops on the easel.

The next few hours found me up in the attic, sitting on the floor near the window as I practised painting pictures that I had stored in my head. Edward greeted me when he arrived, and he sat down at the piano to play pieces that I am sure fitted perfectly with my mood, which had grown more peaceful with every single moment that passed. I spent hours in the attic with my oils as Edward played me music. I made sure to paint over anything that I didn't happen to like, I would have kept going until the paint was an inch thick if I had to, but having a flawless memory and wonderfully accurate hands rendered such extravagance unnecessary. I surprised myself with how accurate I could get my paintings to be. At first I painted the Lake of Clouds, but it didn't really feel complete without Carlisle there, so I grabbed my sketchbook to sketch his face while I waited for the oils to dry. Next I painted the empty ghost town he'd taken me to, and I sketched a picture of his hand in mine, while I waited for the other oils to dry. I grew to like my tactic of keeping the personal pictures in my sketchbook, and putting the others on canvas. It was a good balance. So after I painted the small cabin that Carlisle and I spent our honeymoon in, on the canvas, I drew Edward standing in the doorway of our home with the sunset flooding in around him. I was sorely tempted to sketch Carlisle laying on our makeshift mattress with just a sheet covering him waist down, but I was unsure if he'd appreciate that or not, and I was sure I'd all ready given Edward enough of a mental picture. All though I very much enjoyed the sight of my husband like that, not everyone would share the same fancy. So I decided against it. Perhaps one day when Edward had returned to college, I'd pose the question to Carlisle, even only to see his reaction. I laughed mischievously at the thought before trying my best to think of something different for Edward's sake.

I painted for most of the day, and Edward played. It was unusual for Carlisle to have a shift during the day, but it was only due to his being away for a week. He was scheduled to finish work at five in the evening, and then start again at eleven tonight. How humans were able to manage a schedule like that, I've no idea what so ever. Carlisle was lucky he didn't need to sleep. _I _was lucky that Carlisle didn't need to sleep, otherwise I'd hardly ever see him, and I'd be forced to suggest him taking fewer shifts. The idea had me biting back mischievous laughter. I mentally counted down the days until I'd no longer be a newborn, and the strange mood swings would be gone. Four months. Four months that could not come soon enough. I had to consciously be aware how much force I was exerting when I was close to Carlisle, because I had such immense strength that I could easily hurt him, and that's the very last thing that I wanted to happen.

Sudden enthusiastic playing from Edward distracted me and reminded me to keep my thoughts away from my ridiculously good-looking husband. I'd never get used to calling Doctor Carlisle Cullen _my_ husband.

Edward began to hum along with his piano and I took that as a sign I _really_ needed to think about something else, so I grabbed a new canvas and began to paint the tree that I fell out of when I was sixteen years old. I put a great deal of effort into the tree, hoping to get it perfect so I would never forget it, even when my human memories faded into oblivion I wanted this picture to be able to trigger the blurry memories that I had stored away. The tree was the beginning of my life.

Edward's abrupt stop in playing pulled me out of the little world I lived in while I painted, and I gazed out the window. The sun had begun to set, but the rain was still thick, I couldn't quite judge the time.

"It's ten to five," Edward murmured, "Yes, your husband will be home in half an hour… or less, depending on how quickly he drives."

I beamed at Edward's words, and he chuckled at my thoughts as I heard him grab a book from the library. I quickly put away my paints, but left my canvases out to continue drying, before I dashed out of the attic, remembering to sort out Carlisle's dresser. It took me a few minutes, and at around five passed five, I bolted out of the house and into the garage to wait for him to arrive. I checked the washing in the meantime and decided that it was dry enough, so I was pulling it down when I heard the Cadillac's tyres on the road. My breath caught in my throat as the car pulled onto the driveway, and I remembered just in time, to carry on taking down the washing. I needn't let him think I'd been out in the garage waiting for him. I allowed myself a brief smile at that.

The car raced down the driveway and I managed to convince myself that it was going faster than usual because he missed me. When the car slowed down and neared the garage I flicked a smile over my shoulder, but continued to busy myself with the fabric that was hanging off of thin ropes suspended from the ceiling.

Carlisle parked the car, and was out in one fluid motion; he had his arms wrapped around me from behind in the next.

"Esme," he breathed into my ear, "Oh, how I missed you."

I melted back into him as every piece of tension left my body, being back in his arms filled me with an all-consuming sense of comfort and security.

"I missed you too," I replied in the same breathy tone.

"Mmmm," he murmured, burying his head in my hair, "Did you have a good day?"

I murmured something intelligible in response, "Did you?"

His reply was in much the same fashion as mine, "I told my superiors that I was leaving."

I turned around in his arms, and wrapped mine around his shoulders, "You did?"

He nodded, he grinned down at me with love and adoration twinkling in his age-old eyes. It still struck me as unfathomable how he could spend nearly three centuries on Earth, untouched by anyone and then be enthralled with _me_.

"When do you finish?" I wondered.

"Christmas Eve, 6am."

"You'll be home for Christmas," I beamed.

He returned my smile, "I'll be home for Christmas."

We shared a quiet laugh, and a quick kiss, which would have turned into something more if I hadn't pulled away, and given him a guilty grin, "Edward's inside."

His eyes lit up with excitement, "He is, isn't he?"

I laughed and nodded, pulling back a little, "I think he's looking forward to seeing you again."

"Me too," Carlisle's eyes drifted longingly toward the house, and I laughed a little more.

"Well then go!" I told him, trying to manoeuvre out of his embrace, but he kept his arms around me.

"Uh uh, just give me… two more minutes," he murmured, his eyes dropped from my lips back up to my eyes, and he grinned, so I let him kiss me again, but I wasn't protesting. I loved kissing my husband.

I did make sure to pull away before just kissing became just a little bit more. I managed to make my way out of his embrace, and turned back to the washing.

"Do you need help with that?" He wondered, and I just laughed in reply, shaking my head.

"Go inside, Carlisle!"

His laughter joined mine, before he excitedly thanked me and with a quick kiss on the cheek, he dashed into the house at an inhuman speed. I finished with the washing, and headed inside in much the same fashion as he.

I folded everything in the dining room, not paying too much attention to the boy's conversation, and when I was done I quietly, and dutifully put everything back in its correct place. Edward no longer had any qualms about me washing his clothes, entering his room or going through his drawers. He merely shrugged, and told me that its what mothers do. I still smiled at the memory.

Edward's room was not one I often went into, it was L shaped, just like Carlisle's old room had been, but it was at the front of the house instead of the back. It shared walls with Carlisle's room and the art room.

Edward's room wasn't particularly the neatest of places, but he knew where everything was, so I wasn't one to adjust it, besides, it fitted him well; it was a lot like his hair. The addition of my old set of drawers had helped tidy the place up, but he still had too many possessions for the amount of storage available. He had many more records than I'd seen in one place in my life, and every surface of his room was scattered with some kind of gadget that I knew very little of. I wondered why he hadn't more instruments scattered around the place, and briefly considered suggesting that we get him something new for next Christmas, or his birthday. Perhaps a violin? I wasn't sure what else he'd like to learn to play, or what he could play, but the thought of being able to spoil him warmed my heart. I guessed that's what they felt when faced with the prospect of showering me in gifts.

I smiled to myself as I walked to Edward's chest of drawers and placed all the garments where they needed to go. Edward's room was very green, the wallpaper was a mint green, the bedspread of the unused bed that was pressed up against the wall was a very bright lime green that in no way complimented the mint of the walls, and the curtains (which Edward had ripped for my Christmas decorations) were a garish ivy that made the entire room so much worse. I hoped in our next house Edward wouldn't be opposed to me helping him choose some décor. I knew for a fact that he liked gold, and black, so perhaps something along those lines would be kinder to the eye.

After putting away Edward's clothes, I left the room, and picked up the washing basket from where I'd left it by the hall, before making my way to the room that I now shared with Carlisle. The evening moonlight flooded through the window, so I flicked the light switch and abandoned the basket on the bed, before drawing the wispy white curtains, and coming back to fetch the linen. I placed the fresh clothes in their new arrangements, spread between my bureau and Carlisle's old, tall dresser. Thankfully there was enough space to fit both of our things.

"Did you organise my underwear by colour?" A deep, warm, velvet voice asked from the doorway, and I beamed to myself.

"Your underwear is all the same colour, dear." I reminded him, not looking up from my work.

He chuckled, and I heard him push himself away from the doorframe, to make his way toward me.

"I think you might be right," he murmured as he reached me, wrapping his arms around my waist.

The melodious sound of the piano from downstairs began to waft toward us, in the strangely familiar sound that I was accustomed to Edward playing. I still couldn't place it though, and it even sounded different from usual.

"After all, I have been doing your washing long enough to know," I teased as I turned around in his embrace.

He chuckled, "Yes and you have seen me in my un…" he stopped abruptly, and cleared his throat awkwardly, fully aware of our son downstairs.

I grinned up at him knowingly, "It takes a bit of getting used to."

He looked a little impish as he nodded, "But I think we can do it."

"I'm certain we can do it," I stood up on my tiptoes for a kiss, which he happily granted, and I sighed contentedly, happy to be in his arms once more.

When we pulled away he asked me where everything was, before taking off his waistcoat, and belt, unbuttoning his dress shirt, and hopping on the bed. I sat down on my stool and ran a brush through my hair.

"So, how _was_ your day?" He wondered from behind me. I looked up at him in the mirror; he sat with a thin book in his lap, looking expectantly at me with a warm smile.

I tried to return it, as I replied, "It was… good."

His brow furrowed, "That was hesitant."

I sighed, and put my brush down on my dresser, before standing up and crossing the room to join him on the bed. He put his book on the side table and welcomed me into the circle of his arms.

I crawled to him and snuggled up to his side as I confessed, "I didn't do much."

"You painted," he stated.

I sniffed the air, wondering if he could tell my the stench of the oils, but I couldn't find the smell anywhere, "How do you know?" I wondered.

"Your hands are multi-coloured," he murmured, picking up my hand that rested on his chest, "You're usually a very neat painter, my love. Was something wrong?"

I pursed my lips, before biting the inside of it. Knowing there was no use keeping it from him I admitted in a whisper, "I have issues."

"Don't we all?" He replied without missing a beat, "Perhaps you could tell me of these issues so I may help you make them less annoying to you?"

I laughed a little into his chest and smiled, "I sometimes feel like…" I trailed off, trying to find the right words.

"Like you weren't worthy of what you have here?" He wondered quietly.

My eyebrows rose in surprise, "How did you know?"

He smiled a small smile to himself, "Darling, I know you. I might still have a lot to learn about you, but I do know you, and I can read you quite well. You're wrong, you know. You are worthy of everything you have, and more."

I was quiet for a while as I formulated a reply, "I don't feel like I contribute enough."

I peeked up through my eyelashes to see him grinning down at me as he ran his fingers through my hair, "You love me, I know that. You love Edward too, I know that as well. My darling, that is more than we've ever had before. There could be nothing more splendid or great than that. Your contribution to this family is the most marvellous of all. It is _love_."

I moved closer to him, hugging him tighter as he replaced his fingers with his lips. He was right, I did love him more than I thought possible, and I loved Edward very much too. Love _was_ the most marvellous gift, of course he was right.

"I feel a little put out that you think such lovely things, and I only get to hear some of them," I murmured, smiling into his undershirt.

He chuckled, and my head bobbed up and down with the movement, "Perhaps I should write a journal for you," he teased.

I smiled, "Perhaps."

It was quiet for a moment, as he placed kisses in my hair, and played with the curls with his hand, "Oh, how I missed you," he breathed.

I nodded into his chest, inhaling more of his scent, "I know how you feel…" I paused for a moment, "I have a question…" I murmured.

"Mmm?" He hummed.

"Does it at all seem strange to you that we're lying on a bed, and we're not at all tired?"

He considered my question for a short moment before he replied, "It's very human, isn't it? I suppose it is a little odd, but I rather like holding you in this fashion."

"Oh," I propped myself up on an elbow, "I'm not complaining," I grinned.

He laughed lightly, and nuzzled my nose before placing a chaste kiss on my lips.

I settled back down on his chest, and drew mindless patterns for a while, "Have you found a house in Halifax?" I wondered.

"That's your job, remember?" He teased.

I laughed, recalling a conversation from a long time ago, "I'm not quite ready for such a monumental decision."

Carlisle nodded, "I'll have a look. Shall I run them passed you, or should it be a surprise?"

I shrugged, "Let it be a surprise."

"Oh, the pressure," he joked.

"You love giving me surprises," I pointed out, and he nodded.

"That I do, my love. In fact I did bring you surprises home from work today."

"Please let it not be needles," I whispered.

He chuckled loudly that time, and shook his head, "No, not needles. Packing boxes. I have some things in storage all ready, but you should choose what you'd like from here that we can pack, and then if there is any furniture, we can get someone in to take it to Canada."

I nodded, "Thank you, that would be nice. When do we leave?"

"Before New Years?" He suggested, "I won't started until January tenth, so we have a little bit of time to do some sightseeing on the way."

"I like the sound of that," I murmured, snuggling closer to his chest as he ran his fingers through my hair.

It was quiet for a moment, aside from Edward's soft composition, "Do you know what I like the sound of?" Carlisle asked in a soft murmur.

"No, what?" I breathed, taking another deep breath of his scent. The cinnamon, pear and fresh air was warm to my senses.

"Forever." His words were barely more than a breath exhaled into my hair.

I giggled, "Me too. Do you know what I _don't_ like the sound of?"

I felt him shake his head, "No."

I looked up at him to see his reaction as I murmured, "Fairytales."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, "You love fairytales." His face was beautifully confused.

"Not anymore," I argued innocently.

"Why not?" He asked with brows furrowed.

"They all end at the wedding…" I murmured, reaching up to trace his features, "But in real life, that's where it really begins."

* * *

_A.N. Hi everyone! I feel like I'm coming out from living under a rock! It's nearly been a month since I posted and I know I should have got to it and got this one out earlier, but time flew by like a feather in a __hurricane! So this went a little longer than planned, just because I wanted to give you all something that wasn't super short. _

_Just to let you all know, I'm still writing! Next few chapters are just a little fluffy, as we see the family leave Ashland and move up to Canada! Then there's a little bit of angst coming when our favourite vampires realise some downsides of being vampires...Then we have the chapter ominously named 'The Visitor', which I'm excited about because Carlisle nearly chokes on his heart and dies of fright, then we have a little excitement with cars and fighting, followed by another heart attack for Carlisle, and finally some happy endings! I have it all planned out, don't worry. I've not abandoned it! Then I will start writing my version of how Edward leaves in '27! Which will be the main focus of the Faith &amp; Love sequel called Finding Home._

_Thank you all for your reviews and continued following. You're all lovely! _


	49. Christmas

_Chapter Forty-Nine: Christmas_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, December 1921_

_Edward_

The days and nights that followed Esme and Carlisle's wedding were filled with happiness. Never, in all the time I had known him, had I ever seen Carlisle so light and filled with joy. He barely went an hour without laughing, and his mind was filled with nothing but pure bliss. I surprised myself at how well I was able to deal with the lustful thoughts of my two parental figures, and although it was not easy, it was made easier by the ever-present sense of love that accompanied the passion. Unlike many humans whose lustful thoughts made their way into my head, Carlisle and Esme cared so deeply for one another, that there was a subtle beauty to the physical side of it all, not that I liked to dwell. Too many times I'd come close enough to the house to hear their thoughts when they were alone, and found myself running quickly in the opposite direction. They were not, in the least, good at judging time when they were together, but I didn't begrudge them that. In fact, I hoped that one day they too would show me the same grace when I should find another whose love for me equalled that of the love my parents shared.

When Carlisle was at work, Esme and I discussed the future. We planned and dreamed of what our life would be in Halifax, we brainstormed identities, cover stories, and I encouraged her to consider enrolling in the local college with me. As of yet, I'd had no success, even though Esme was exceptionally good at being around humans, especially for a newborn. She behaved so well during the wedding, I was proud of her. She was afraid of going to college though, she told me that she believed she'd not had enough practise at being in public, but we were both well aware that I knew for some strange reason she believed her presence in college would reflect badly upon Carlisle. She was intent upon believing that a good and proper wife was a housewife. Esme Anne Cullen was a stubborn woman. A very lovely stubborn woman, who was sitting by the window in the attic reading a letter from her dearest friend, as I read one of Carlisle's medical texts beside her.

She ran her fingers over the paper, her eyes skimming over the words for the umpteenth time, as she remembered when the first letter came home with Carlisle a few days after they arrived home from their honeymoon.

_She skipped down the stairs as she heard him approach the house. Her chest was light with love and happiness, at the thought of her husband being home again. The hours they spent away from each other sometimes seemed just too much. _

_He opened the door and beamed when he saw her, opening his arms for their favourite morning ritual._

"_Ah, Esme," he sighed into her hair, "I missed you, love."_

_She beamed into his chest; his words always made her feel so loved. _

_"As I missed you," she pulled back to look at him, "How was your shift?"_

_His grin widened at her question, as he pulled an arm away from her waist. "It was very good," he murmured, "I have something for you, love."_

_Her eyebrow quirked, as her curiosity was piqued, "Oh?"_

_Carlisle grinned, "Yes. You seem to have left quite the impression on a certain Doctor's wife."_

_Her row furrowed for a moment, before her chest erupted in hope. "Elsie?" She whispered quietly, although she tried her best to downplay it, her hopefulness was not lost on him._

_He chuckled and nodded, retrieving the small envelope from his pocket, and handing it to her._

_She was delighted at the gift, but soon caution overrode that, "Is this a good idea? I mean, we're moving soon…"_

_Carlisle shrugged, "I can't see why not. You can keep in contact with her, but you'll have to evade the truth about some things."_

_She nodded to herself, looking down at the paper in her hands. She knew he'd let her do anything that made her happy, so she hoped he was really telling her the truth._

_Carlisle reached out to cup her cheek, and the worry disappeared from her face nearly instantly._

"_Words are not photographs, my love. She'll only know as much as you choose to divulge. Naturally, her letters will have to be sent through a few postal offices first, so she doesn't find our address, but I think it's mostly safe. Enjoy it my dear, you two seemed to get along very well, and if Elsie is anything like her husband, she'll not take 'no' for an answer."_

It didn't take much for Esme to relent, and correspondence between the two women was happening nearly daily through their husbands, who'd do anything for them.

Esme ran her fingers over the fine writing once more, lingering on a melancholy feeling, for she'd miss her friend dearly when we left. Elsie and Gregson paid us a visit two days ago, because Elsie couldn't bear letting Esme go without a proper goodbye. They promised to continue writing to one another, and to remain friends despite the distance, for Esme, with her limitless love, was the only true friend Elsie had come across in Ashland, especially after the public display of affection debacle at the hospital a few years back.

It was Christmas Eve, no later than four in the morning, and the darkness was in full swing. Esme held no hope that she'd be receiving a letter from Elsie upon Carlisle's return home, for Carlisle and Gregson didn't share a shift last night. Esme held the last letter that she would receive in quite some time, in her cold little hands, as she filled her head (and consequently mine) with the memory of the Gregson's surprise visit.

_It was Friday afternoon, and the rain was coming down in sheets outside the window. The house was rocked from side to side by the bitter winds, but she was happy and content in her lover's arms. They sat together on the chaise, Carlisle's deep baritone murmured beautiful poetry in her ear, as she basked in the sweetness of his scent, and the beauty of his being that surrounded her._

"_Come live with me and be my love," he murmured the lines as though they were promises he wrote himself. "And we will all the pleasures prove, That valleys, groves, hills and fields, Woods or steeply mountain yields." _

_She lay back in his arms some more, not needing the warmth that he provided, but coveting it none-the-less, for the wind and the rain outside the grubby windows of the study made her shiver, "And we will sit upon the rocks, Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks, By shadow rivers to whose falls, Melodious birds sings madrigals."_

_His voice was like the fire crackling at night, or the opening sounds of a record, it was the warmest, and most welcome sound in her entire universe. _"_And I will make these beds of roses, And a thousands fragrant poses, A cap of flowers and a kirtle, Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle, A gown made of the finest wool, Which, from our pretty lambs we pull, Fur lined slippers for the cold, With buckles of the purest gold."_

_Briefly Esme wondered if Carlisle had ever met Christopher Marlowe, the author of the poem that fit with her husband's voice so well, she was nearly convinced that Mr. Marlow was just a pseudonym for which Carlisle used when he forayed into the poetic profession. But of course, the author was before Carlisle's time, as strange as her son might find that.  
"A belt of straw and ivy buds," he continued, stealing her from her thoughts, "With coral clasps and amber studs, And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me and be my love." _

_He took a moment in between the verses to nuzzle her ear with his nose, but before she could say a single word, his warm baritone began to speak again, "The shepherd swains shall dance and sing, For thy delight in each Monday morning, If these delights thy mind may move, Then live with me and be my love." He finished the poem in a whisper, and lay a gentle kiss on her neck._

"_We'll not read any of the replies to that poem," she told him once he was done, and he chuckled, reclining back into the seat, and pulling her with him, after he placed the book he read from on the ground._

"_That sounds just fine to me. Sir Walter Raleigh may be nothing more than a cynic in my eyes now that you've changed the way I see the world, my love."_

_She giggled, "I'm glad. There are some instances, like in this one, where romance, no matter how young or idealistic, should be accepted for what it is, and not be taken for anything more, or be made anything less."_

"_I could not agree more, my darling wife," he breathed into her cheek. She was very nearly ready to turn around and catch his lips in a kiss, but nearby tyres turning onto their driveway pulled them apart with a start._

_I was at their door in a flash, "It's Dr. and Mrs. Gregson. They're here to see Esme. They're expecting you to be asleep Carlisle."_

_Carlisle nodded and turned to Esme, scanning her eyes for their colour, "When was the last time you hunted, love? We can disappear upstairs and Edward can tell them we are sleeping if you're not up to greeting visitors?"_

_Esme was sorely tempted at his offer, having not hunted in nearly a week, but she knew this would be the last chance she would ever be given to see Elsie Gregson._

"_I think…" She murmured nervously, "I think I'll be all right."_

_Carlisle could see straight through her, and he knew her motivations right away. He believed that her fondness of his colleague's wife would be enough to keep her control in place. Esme and I both fervently hoped he was right. _

_We quickly dispersed to our respective places, Carlisle upstairs, Esme in the kitchen, and myself in the living room._

_Esme opened all the cupboards, searching for something to serve our guests, but there was not a lot of variety to choose from. She decided in our next house that she would make sure the kitchen was stocked, no matter how silly it may be, so she'd never again be left in the predicament of having nothing to serve her surprise guests. She couldn't embarrass her husband in such away. In the two minutes that it took for the Gregson's to drive down the driveway, Esme had successfully located some cookies I'd purchased from a bakery in Duluth a few days before, having realised an Ashland local recognised me, and was pondering how unusual it was that he never saw the mysterious Cullen family at the grocers, bakers or butchers. If he only knew our true food source…_

_Esme readied the cookies, and put the kettle on the stove, all by the time Gregson knocked on the door. Esme listened as I walked to the door at human pace and opened it, greeting our guests with appropriate surprise._

_Esme appeared from the kitchen looking remarkably tired, as I explained that Carlisle was upstairs sleeping. As soon as Elsie's bright blue eyes met Esme' golden ones, she squeaked in delight and called "Anna!" in a whisper._

_Esme smiled and waved from behind me, not once forgetting her frail façade, and placed a hand on my shoulder when she reached the door._

"_What a lovely surprise!" She murmured, "Please, come in out of the rain."_

_We stepped back away from the door to let them in, and Elsie immediately wrapped Esme in a tight embrace. _

"_Oh, darling!" She cooed, "You're still so cold. Don't tell me these boys haven't been treating you well?" Elsie pulled back and gave Esme a concerned look, but my mother just smiled._

"_It's the sickness, dear. I've not been well lately, but worry not, my boys are doing a fine job of keeping me well."_

"_I'm glad to hear that, but we mustn't keep you on your feet, you look positively exhausted!"_

_Esme shook her head, "It's fine, it's fine. I just put the kettle on, would you care for a cup of tea?"_

_Elsie looked to her husband hopefully, and he smiled indulgently back at her, "Of course, sweetheart, but we mustn't impede on the Cullens, nor must we wake Carlisle."_

"_No matter," Carlisle's friendly, yet tired voice came from the stairs, "I'm alert. Gregson, it's good to see you," he nodded as he descended, "And Elsie," Carlisle smiled._

"_Hello, Carlisle. I hope it wasn't us that woke you?"_

_Carlisle shook his head, "I've been up for some time, reviewing files and what not."_

_Gregson sighed, "Don't remind me of all I have to do when I get back home."_

_Carlisle chuckled, "My apologies."_

_Gregson merely joined him in his laughter and shook his head._

"_Let me check the kettle," Esme murmured, "Take a seat, you two."_

"_Nonsense!" Elsie told her, "I'll help you with the tea. You look as though you'll fall any minute, you poor thing." She looped her arm in Esme's and the two women moved down the hallway toward the kitchen._

_Carlisle directed Gregson into the study to discuss their work, while I dashed down to the washroom, making sure there was at least one window open in the house, to make things easier on both Esme and I._

_Esme thanked me in her mind as the wind began to make its way into the stuffy kitchen. She was thankful that Elsie believed her sickness story, for it provided a nice explanation as to why she wasn't in the most talkative mood. I joined the women in the kitchen, after I opened the window._

"_I hope you don't mind me interrupting, ladies. Anna, please, sit. You'll tire yourself out even more. I'll help Elsie make the tea." I pulled out a seat for Esme near the doorway, so she'd get the freshest air possible. Her eyes had darkened considerably in the few moments she'd been alone with her friend. Her bloodlust was evident in her mind, and had the human in our kitchen been anyone other than one of her favourite people, Esme was sure the poor human would have been dead. But this human was Elsie, and that knowledge was the only thing that stopped Esme from giving in to the mouth-watering scent of the frail human girl. Her mind was not a place I wanted to be as she struggled with her thirst, but I felt obliged to monitor her, even though it made controlling my own thirst worse. _

_Elsie chatted away about anything and everything under the sun as she nibbled on a cookie and waited for the water to boil. She didn't require Esme's input, but was delighted with every single piece of information that her dear friend offered up. I could see how such a strong bond between the two women had been forged in such a short time; they both had such sweet personalities, it wouldn't have made sense for them not to get along. _

"_So, Edward," Elsie murmured, after telling Esme of the grocer in Ashland – whose daughter happened to be a nurse – who _still_ refused to serve her because a fine doctor such as her husband did not deserve someone so improper as her (Elsie had rolled her eyes at that and sighed, "It's the twentieth century, for crying out loud. Don't you think it's a tad over the top not to serve a woman who loves her husband? It was just a kiss, and we were all ready married, you'd think I killed her cat."). "What are you doing now that college has ended? Will your credits transfer to your new college?" Elsie hadn't asked where we were moving to, and although it was obvious that she was curious, she wasn't going to mention the subject._

"_I'm at home most days. Anna and I enjoy our quiet days, especially when Carlisle is home. Sometimes I travel out to Duluth, but I'm content with a book, my piano, and a nice view."_

_A cheeky smile spread across her lips, "So, there's no special lady you've got your sights set on?"_

_I smiled and looked away, "No, there's not."_

_She sighed in disappointment, "Oh well, no matter, perhaps when you're settled in your new home you'll find someone."_

_It had never bothered me much, the thought of someone to love, but with everyday that passed watching Carlisle and Esme in love, I wanted it that much more. I let out a chuckle, "Perhaps... Then again, perhaps not."_

_Elsie was about to ask more questions, but Esme interrupted her, thankfully. "So, Elsie, tell me about those new shoes you wrote me about."_

_Elsie's eyes lit up, and she plunged into an exciting story about shoes that I had no interest in what-so-ever. I mouthed a 'thank you' to Esme, who smiled tenderly my way. _

_Elsie did not stop her story as the kettle boiled, nor as she poured the hot liquid into dusty cups, nor as we relocated to the living room, where Carlisle and Gregson sat discussing work. She didn't even stop talking as she handed out the beverages and sat down._

_Gregson smirked a little and shook his head indulgently, "Forgive us, once she's excited about something, she won't stop."_

_Carlisle shook his head and smiled, "Happiness is not something that should ever require an apology, my friend. Besides, I'm over the moon that our wives have found such great friends in one another."_

_We sat for a while inside as we conversed, the more time we spent with the humans, the harder it was for Esme to keep her control in check. Carlisle was hyper-aware of this, and began formulating excuses to get her upstairs after nearly an hour inside with the Gregsons, for her eyes were jet black. However, Esme was just a little quicker than Carlisle with this matter, her eyes darted up to the window, and a bright smile appeared on her face._

"_Oh! Look at that, the rain has stopped! I could do with some fresh air for this insufferable headache of mine. Shall we take a walk?" She asked Elsie._

"_Will you be quite right in the cold?" Her friend worried._

"_I'll be fine," Esme insisted, "I'll wrap up warm. How does that sound, gentlemen?"_

_Carlisle and I agreed straight away, and so, after we gathered our coats, the women walked outside arm in arm, and we followed. _

_Carlisle and Gregson discussed their work, which would have intrigued me had I not been keeping tabs on the women who walked a few feet ahead._

_Esme's control was much better when she was surrounded by fresh air, she was even able to somewhat forget about the warm arm wrapped over hers, and the gentle throbbing of blood through the thick wool and thin, translucent skin. My chest was filled with pride at her achievement._

_The conversation the women were sharing, however, was not at all something that made me happy._

"_I fell ill a few days ago," Elsie murmured, "I didn't like to mention it in my letters, but I feel as though it is the very reason my husband suggested we come out here today. He wanted me out of the house, and to stop wallowing. He knows I can't resist the thought of seeing you again, especially now that you're leaving in so few days. I think he hoped I'd feel comfortable mentioning it to you, seeing as though you're the dearest friend I have."_

_Worry filled Esme to the brim, and she tightened her hold on Elsie minutely._

_Elsie stammered for a moment, and choked down a few tears before she confessed in a whisper, "The sickness itself wasn't anything bad, but the doctors confirmed my very worst fears, Anna."_

"_What is it?" Esme worried in the same hushed tone._

"_I've been married for a while now… and still, I've not been able to conceive… they say that we won't… ever. Oh Anna, I'll never be a mother."_

_Esme's heart dropped at the news, she could just picture Elsie with small blonde haired, blue-eyed children laughing, and playing. Elsie's confession was one of the worst things that Esme could imagine, so, in just as quiet a voice as before, she told Elsie a secret of her own._

"_Elsie," she whispered, "I should tell you, that I know exactly how you feel, for you see, because of my sickness, I'll never be able to either."_

_Elsie's eyes widened in surprise, and her mouth dropped open slightly. Slowly, ever so slowly, her heart rose in her chest, of course, she felt sorrow for her dear friend, but more than that, she felt a stronger sense of comradeship between her and her friend. No longer would she have to dread receiving a message from her friend sharing the exciting news of a baby Cullen on the way. I expected to find some emotion along the same line when I looked into Esme's mind, but I was somewhat surprised to only find pain. The two women were similar, no doubt, but they most certainly were not the same. Esme grieved for her friend, and I, in turn, found myself grieving for her._

_Their conversation soon turned to lighter topics, but it was not missed by any of our party that something had occurred to bring the two women even closer, and none of us had to guess what it was. Esme perfectly pretended to grow tired when even the breeze couldn't fully distract her from Elsie's scent. _

"_Should we turn back?" Elsie wondered with concern in her voice, "Are you all right?"_

"_Fine, fine," Esme smiled, her voice quiet and seemingly weak, "Yes, perhaps its best to turn back."_

_The women turned around, and Carlisle practically ran forward to Esme to grab her hand. It was rather comical to me, but the Gregsons believed every minute of it, so much to Esme's relief, she was able to walk back to the house on Carlisle's arm, surrounded by his scent._

"_We'll hunt as soon as they leave, love," he murmured to her softly, "You've done so well, I'm so proud of you."_

_She smiled up at him but never once dropped her human façade, the Gregsons got the hint, and announced their departure before we even reached the house. This was not however, before Elsie begged Carlisle and Esme to let her take some photographs of them, and me in front of the house that 'brought them together,' as she put it._

_So, dressed in our winter coats, as the weather was beginning to worsen once again, we stood on the steps of the porch, wearing pleasant smiles and staring at the very excited blonde woman behind the camera._

"_Well this looks lovely, but truly, come now Carlisle, we're among friends… you can stand closer to your wife. Put an arm around her, or something nice," Elsie instructed._

_Esme fought to hide her smile, and Carlisle stepped closer to his wife, slipping his arm around her waist. _

_Elsie quickly snapped the shot, and looked at us over the camera once again, "Maybe even a sweet little kiss?" She teased._

_Esme burst into giggles and Carlisle chuckled with her, Gregson leaned up against their car, shaking his head fondly at his wife. A great deal many different scenarios flittered through Elsie Gregson's mind as she pictured her suggestion. None of which eventuated. Carlisle merely hid his face in Esme's hat, she beamed toward our guests, and I tried to sneak out of the frame. _

_We laughed and joked about that one photo as they climbed into their automobile. It was a sweet note to end on, for as they drove away down our winding drive we three knew that that was the very last time we would ever see Elsie Gregson. _

Esme ran her fingers over the words on the paper once more, all ready missing her dear friend, and still slightly grieving over the closeness that they could never have. She knew in the beginning that she could not make any close friendships with any humans, for we moved around too much to allow that, but she never expected it to be so hard to resist. Esme knew she'd always miss Elsie though, especially since the things they shared were important to the both of them.

She took a deep breath and set the letter to her side. The darkness filled the room, the only light was from the moon, but we could still see each other perfectly. I was pretending to read, but she knew her thoughts would have been far to distracting to allow that.

"Is there anything else you want to do for Christmas?" She wondered, breaking the silence.

I shook my head, leafing through a few pages before I shut the thick cover of the deep blue book, and set it on the ground by my side. "There's nothing else I can think of really. Carols by the church, presents, family, hunting. It sounds like a nice plan."

She nodded and looked out the window thoughtfully, "Perhaps next Christmas all of our belongings won't be in boxes."

I laughed, "Perhaps next Christmas, we'll be in Europe."

Her eyes flicked back to mine with excitement, "Yes." She grinned, "Perhaps."

"The child inside of me would give up all of his presents for the rest of eternity if he could spend one Christmas at the North Pole."

Esme laughed, and beamed at me indulgently, "Be careful what you wish for Edward, you know how your father is, a gift that extravagant, he won't be able to resist." _He'll understand what I mean after he sees his gift this year…_ Abruptly she began humming in her mind, just as both she and Carlisle had since they came back from their honeymoon whenever their minds drifted to what they'd got me for Christmas.

"You do realize it's nearly impossible to surprise a mind reader?" I grinned.

She shrugged, "Not if one doesn't think about it."

I sighed; admittedly my parents had been doing a great job of that so far. I spent the next while trying to trick her into giving up what my gift was. I was so accustomed to knowing exactly what was going on, I didn't much like it that my parents had grown better at hiding their thoughts from me, mind you, it did come in handy in some instances.

Carlisle arrived home early, much to Esme's delight, as a surprise to her. We spent the day of Christmas Eve finalising our packing arrangements. The important things which were too large for us to take in the car and would meet us in our new home were all ready gone; leaving the house with the same horrible furniture it began with. The place resorted back to a house without Esme's touch; it was in no way, shape or form, a home.

When the sun had set that afternoon, we donned our winter wear and ran up to the hill by a nearby church, listening reverently to the service inside. Some hymns we hummed along with, others were merely listened to, some prayers we participated in, others were merely observed. It was a sweet idea – Esme's, of course – and it meant a great deal more to Carlisle than he'd ever tell her, but the beauty of that was that she knew. He was always aware of how hard it would be to find a vampire who shared his faith, but someone who accepted it was a blessing too.

After the service we ran back to the house, and settled in for the night.

Midnight saw us all in the living room; Carlisle and Esme shared the couch, while I preferred to sit on the floor, leaning up against the empty armchair. I was flicking through a book Carlisle had given me about Halifax, while the two lovebirds chatted quietly in each other's arms. I didn't mind being near them when they were like this; in fact, I liked to see the love dancing in their eyes. Carlisle sat with his back to the arm of the couch, with one leg up on it, and the other dangling off it, Esme had her back pressed up against his chest, and Carlisle rested his head on her shoulder. They were laughing about something that I hadn't bothered to pay attention to. Their thoughts were filled with love and adoration for the other, there was no hint of anything intimate. They were just… innocent. When the grandfather clock hidden somewhere in the house chimed twelve, Esme looked up with excitement in her eyes.

Carlisle laughed and placed a kiss on her shoulder, "Merry Christmas."

"Oh, it is, isn't it?" She sighed wistfully.

Carlisle's brow furrowed, and my head lolled to the side, "It is Christmas? Yes." Carlisle replied.

Esme giggled and shook her head, "No, I mean, it is merry, isn't it? Look at us," she grinned, "All together, sitting here as a family. I only speak for myself when I say this, but this is perhaps, the happiest Christmas I've ever seen."

Carlisle beamed, _For me too,_ he thought. His eyes danced between Esme and I, as his mind marvelled over the word _family._

I had to admit that it was, perhaps, the best Christmas I had experienced in my recent years, Esme did, after all, make all the difference.

"Yes," I murmured, closing the book in my lap and setting it aside, "I suppose it is. Merry Christmas Esme, Carlisle."

"Merry Christmas to the both of you," Esme sighed, "I love you both so dearly."

I laughed, "Is Christmas just an excuse for you to get all gushy about loving us?" I teased.

She sighed and gave me an exasperated look, but I could tell from the way that her lips quirked up at the sides, that she was holding back a tender smile, "I don't need an excuse, thank you very much, young man. I love you both every single moment of every single day, it being Christmas does not change a thing about that."

Carlisle laughed, and kissed her cheek, "We love you too, darling."

I nodded my agreement, and Esme smiled contentedly at us for a short time, before remembering how excited she was to give us our gifts.

_Oh! And Edward is going to love – _I caught her thinking excitedly about it again before she quickly caught herself and began humming tunelessly in her mind.

"Shall we start with the giving?" She wondered, and Carlisle nodded, perfectly hiding his unhappiness at having to let her go.

She jumped off the couch and dashed to the tree, sitting beside it excitedly. Sharing an amused grin, Carlisle and I both came to join her.

"Who first?" She wondered, her red blouse matched the green tree in perfect harmony for the occasion.

"How about… you?" I suggested, and Carlisle laughed.

"I agree, you have the most love, so you should start first."

She pursed her lips but couldn't hide the delight at being spoiled by her two boys. Not that it mattered; our love was all she'd ever need.

I reached out for a small gift, wrapped in brown paper, with her name on it. She accepted it gracefully and gasped in delight when she opened it to reveal an ornate hair comb I'd found in Duluth. It was silver, with pearls, and it was just so sweet, I saw it in a window and thought of her immediately. She wrapped me in a hug, as I'd soon come to find she would after opening every gift. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head as she unwrapped a set of Bayberry candles from Carlisle, she was astounded that he was so thoughtful, this of course filled him with pride. Then there were the clothes – we'd worked together on that one, I listened carefully at everything she talked herself out of getting when she was looking through the catalogues, and he placed the orders. She was beside herself after that, so we let her take a break. Carlisle was over the moon about the philosophy books I gave him, Ludwig Wittgenstein's German,_'__Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus', _and Bertrand Russell's _'The Analysis of Mind.' _I'm fairly certain he was sorely tempted to hug me just as Esme had, but he resisted, which I was very thankful for. The biggest reaction from either of my parents however, was to their joint present. Carlisle let Esme unwrap the square gift and as soon as the paper was torn from the book, she froze with one hand at her mouth and one hand on the book.

"Esme, love, are you all right?" Carlisle wondered, but she didn't respond, she merely stared at the album at her fingertips. After a few minutes had passed, and Carlisle grew increasingly worried, Esme came back to life and began to sob. She gently opened the front cover, and there, smiling back at them, were two happy faces on their wedding day.

"Oh," Carlisle breathed, understanding the reason for her reaction, "Edward this is lovely."

I shrugged, "I can't believe you both forgot about it," I laughed. Truly, I was expecting them to mention something to me about their wedding photos that I was getting developed, but they'd seemed to wrapped up in their current happiness that they'd never even given it a thought.

They flicked through the album, wearing wide smiles, pointing and laughing at things that they'd missed during the day. There were the classic shots of the happy couple on the church steps and whatnot, but the more artistic shots that only someone like Elsie would dare taking were their favourites.

"Edward, thank you," Esme murmured emotionally, "This is the kindest thing you could have given us."

I grinned back at her and gracefully accepted her embrace. Carlisle thanked me profusely in his mind, as he marveled once again at the change Esme brought to our family.

"Oh, and I may as well give you this," I murmured, pulling her locket out of my pocket, and holding it out for her.

She smiled and thanked me as she took it in her small hands, but made to move to open it, so I had to prompt her.

"Open it," I instructed, and she raised an eyebrow, but complied none-the-less.

She let out a little gasp, as she saw the picture that now filled one side. My favourite photograph of Esme and Carlisle, on the steps of the church, smiling at each other, with love dancing in their eyes, was slid beneath the glass on the locket's right shocked expression soon morphed into a brilliant smile, "So you did have a good reason for taking it," she laughed.

I nodded, and grinned back at her. After the sentimentality of my gift was dealt with we resumed the giving, and we were all pleasantly surprised with the gifts we were given.

Every so often a thought would pop into my parent's minds about a grand present they'd organized for me, but they'd catch themselves just in time before they revealed what it was, so naturally when there was only one present sitting beneath the tree, I was excited.

Esme's bright eyes lit up even more, "Last one left!" She exclaimed reaching for it, "And… It's for Edward!"

She handed me the rectangular, thick gift with a large smile on her face. I grinned back at her and thanked them both before I began to tear off the wrapping. With all the hype that came with this one present, I'll admit I was confused, and a little disappointed when I tore off the paper to reveal a hardcover book. Not to be ungrateful, the book was lovely, it was filled with pictures of planes from the Great War, but I wasn't entirely sure how it could be as exciting as my parents seemed to think it was.

They both smiled at me expectantly, so I plastered on the smile I was sure they both expected to see, and thanked them for the gift, with as much enthusiasm as I could muster.

"It's nice isn't it?" Esme beamed, "It even comes with a bookmark!"

Carlisle was trying his best not to laugh, and reciting Latin poetry in his head to avoid thinking about the book in my hands. My brow furrowed, but I kept the pleasant smile plastered on my face as I flicked open the book to the page where an envelope sized bookmark lay. It was white, and plain, and it didn't look much like a bookmark at all, but rather just an ordinary envelope.

Esme still sat watching me with an expectant smile, and Carlisle with a smirk.

"Uh, thank you?" I murmured uncertainly, and Carlisle began to laugh. Esme smiled indulgently as she watched her husband throw his head back with glee.

"Oh, just open it Edward!" He exclaimed.

"Open what?" Was my daft reply.

"The envelope!"

I looked back down to the envelope-like bookmark and after a short moment or two I gingerly picked it up. My eyes scanned over the page it marked, taking in a picture of a British biplane bomber.

Slowly, I opened the envelope and pulled out the paper inside. I stared over it for a moment, before I looked back to my parent's smug faces; my mind was clouded with disbelief.

"Is this the deed to an _Airco DH.4_?" I asked incredulously.

"Yes, I'm fairly sure it is," Carlisle replied.

There was a beat of dead silence, "You brought me an airplane?"

He chuckled and nodded as though it wasn't a big deal, "I was going to get a _Curtiss JN-4_, but the cruising speed was only sixty miles per hour, and the endurance time was only two hours, whereas that one has a cruising speed of –"

"Ninety miles per hour, endurance of three hours and a ground speed of one-hundred-and-forty-three," I finished for him, "You mean to say… I own this?"

Carlisle nodded, "But it's been modified for civilian use."

"It's not a bomber anymore then?"

He chuckled, "No."

I grinned over at him, "Didn't you trust me?"

He laughed even louder, "It's not you I don't trust. I'm just opposed to violence."

I shook my head and beamed back down at the paper, wondering exactly when I would be able to fly the plane. By the looks of it, it was being kept not too far from here, near Saxon.

"So… when are we…?" I wondered.

Carlisle's expression soon turned apologetic, "It's on our way to Canada, we could go anytime you want, but I thought perhaps it might be a good idea to make it a stop along our way?"

I sighed, "That's fair enough, I can wait a few days." It would be a tough wait, but worth it in the end. I grinned over at Esme, who was beaming at me. I knew she was trying not to picture me hugging her in her mind, so chuckling indulgently I opened my arms.

She beamed and flew back to me, so I placed a kiss atop her head, "Thank you, mother."

My words always had the same effect on her, and she fought the urge to cry.

_It was her idea, truly, _Carlisle told me, _Well, she suggesting renting one…_

I nearly laughed out loud, he noticed my amusement and added, _But we Cullens do not simply 'rent'._

We grinned at each other as Esme stayed contentedly in my arms… And that was how the morning of Christmas 1921 passed.

The day was spent as any other ordinary day would have been, aside from the friendly banter that Esme and Carlisle exchanged for most of the afternoon as he impishly showed her all of the extra suitcases he purchased for her new wardrobe, and admitted he had me spy on her. She laughed exuberantly and tried to pretend that she was miffed at him, we all knew she wasn't, in fact, she was so happy, she was nearly light headed – and I wasn't even sure if that was possible.

We packed up all of our new gifts for the move, which would be happening on the twenty-seventh, and then I found a nice spot on the floor where my piano used to be, to read my new book. Esme and Carlisle both beamed every time they saw me bent over their gift, and I couldn't stop smiling either. The old wooden house on the outskirts of Ashland town, certainly had a strange reputation for unhappiness and fear, but I'll bet every cent I have that there was no other house, far or near, that was filled with more happiness than that of the Cullen residence.

So the minutes and hours passed as they always would, and the sun set at about twenty minutes passed four that afternoon. We left the house not long after, in search of Christmas dinner. Just as we had for Thanksgiving, we ran to the shores of Lake Superior, and dived into the still waters. Carlisle led our underwater pack to a different island than the one we went to for Thanksgiving. There wasn't a great deal of variety in winter, not with the bears hibernating and the humans excessive hunting, but I hoped perhaps he'd take us somewhere that had a little more to offer than just deer. Carlisle Cullen mightn't have been a picky eater, but I knew what I liked.

We arrived on a sandy beach with a thick fringe of green trees nestled perfectly into the still, and quiet night.

"Which Island is this?" I wondered, as Esme untied her hair and shook it like a wet dog.

"Stockton," Carlisle replied with a small smile, "Known for it's large population of black bears."

I sighed, "Black, hibernating bears."

Carlisle shrugged, "I'd apply the word hibernating quite loosely. They don't _hibernate_ per say, they go into a deep sleep, and their metabolic rate slows down and what not, but it's been my experience that during winter most bears are more… alert than that of hibernating animals. If you, say for example, were to make a loud noise, growl perhaps, or nudge the bear, it wouldn't be in a deep enough sleep to be oblivious… in fact, it'd wake up quiet rapidly. Bears are still alert even when they 'hibernate'…"

I paused for a moment, while Esme grinned at the thought of bears for Christmas dinner.

"So, you didn't bring us here for more deer… did you?" I asked with a slow grin spreading across my face.

Carlisle chuckled, "No, I didn't bring you here with venison in mind."

I gave him a wide grin, and then turned my back on him, sinking down into my hunting crouch. I let a menacing growl rumble from my chest, and somewhere in the distance, in the not so still, and not so quiet night, I heard heartbeats quicken, and breathing accelerate, there was even a slight scuffling a few miles north. My grin grew even wider as I took a deep breath in, and let the vampire inside take control of my body once again. Like the apex predator I was, I sliced through the night.

And such was Christmas.

* * *

_A.N. Hey guys! How are you all? Sorry this has taken ages, again! But I saw just the other day that this story has 100 followers so I thought I'd better put a firecracker on my seat and get writing! Thank you all for your amazing support, when I first posted chapter one of Faith &amp; Love I was hoping to get a few readers, but I never imagined getting this many. It's absolutely amazing, and I'm so glad that I can write something that brings enjoyment to people. _

_So I hoped you enjoyed this fluffy chapter with a dash of vampire at the end! :D_

_And just a fun fact for you all: Oddly enough it's taken me all this time to realize that 1921 had the exact same calendar as 2015! I can be so slow sometimes. So Christmas 1921 fell on a Sunday, just like it does this year! It's crazy that I didn't realise that before, but oh well. I know now!_

_I'm hoping the next chapter won't take as long for me to write. I have a week break from uni soon, so fingers crossed I'll get something done. I hope you all enjoyed this! By the way: There will be about three more chapters of happiness before things start to go wrong for those of you who like drama. I hope I'm not dragging this out too much, but I'm enjoying writing this slowly and going into detail, so I hope you're all enjoying it._

_Anyway - that is the last you'll hear from the Gregsons in a while, but they do have a minor (but very, very important) role to play in the Faith &amp; Love sequel: Finding Home, which I'll just note, will most likely be shorter than Faith &amp; Love. I'm thinking Faith &amp; Love is going to be the longest of all my stories in this series._

_Anyhoo, I look forward to hearing from you! And a million thank you for reading/reviewing/following/favouriting!_

_Much love x_


	50. Airborne

_Chapter Fifty: Airborne_

_Ashland, Wisconsin, December 1921_

_Carlisle_

The house was not empty by any means, but it most certainly felt it. The rare Wisconsin winter sun filtered through the windows in gentle beams, as I wandered passed the sitting room. A thousand memories came rushing into my mind as I stood in the wooden archway. Never had a house meant as much to me as this ugly old thing, but truly it wasn't the house that meant the world, it was what the house signified… it was home. I never thought, when I purchased this house, that I would be leaving it with a family. I thought – I _hoped_ – that perhaps I would still have Edward as my companion, but I truly never thought I'd leave with him as my son, and my wife (_my wife!) _would be with us also.

The little book burned in my hands as I itched to read it once again, so I quickly made my way back to the kitchen, and out through the backdoor that I knew Esme adored. As I galloped down the steps I couldn't help but recall the day that I followed a distant caramel haired woman down this very same route, and when I returned with her in my embrace I was astounded to know that I'd somehow been able to claim her heart.

I dashed to the fringes of the trees, seeing her in my imagination, darting through the trees, swinging on their trunks, laughing with the birds, letting her vampire nature come out in the speed, and the way she could run up the bark and perch on the thin branch staring down at me with beautiful mirth in her eyes.

Choosing a particularly nice trunk to lean up against, I sat down on the damp grass, and inhaled her scent that lingered on the pages of her teenage journal.

I smiled to myself as I opened the fragile cover and let her artistic handwriting engulf my mind, and play with my heartstrings.

Some immeasurable amount of time passed before I was broken from my reverie.

"What are you doing out here?" My favourite voice asked from a short distance away. I looked up from my spot beneath one of the trees on the fringe of the forest in our back garden, to see my wife, in all of her beautiful glory, standing on the bottom step of the porch stairs, gazing at me with an amused smile on her face.

"I'm enjoying the rare, fine day, love. Do you care to join me?" I wondered.

She nodded quietly, before slowly making her way across the grass, the small smile still played at her fine lips. The day had become overcast in the time that I sat beneath the tree, but it had not rained, nor had it snowed, which was still miraculous for an Ashland winters day.

I watched Esme eyeing the journal in my hands as she walked over, and I couldn't help but chuckle at the slightly exasperated look upon her face. Somehow, she couldn't fathom why I enjoyed reading her teenage thoughts so much, but I was sure, if the roles had been reversed and she was in possession of a journal that contained my thoughts, she'd never be able to take her eyes off of it.

I made room for her between my legs when she approached, and wrapped my arms around her waist when she sat down with her back pressed up against me.

She sighed in contentment, as she relaxed back, and I took a quiet moment to press a gentle kiss to her shoulder.

"It's a lovey spot you have here," she murmured.

I nodded, "Yes, the view of the house is lovely. I'm glad you joined me."

A dimple appeared in her beautiful cheek as she smiled, "As am I. Anything to distract you from that journal."

I chuckled, "It's my favourite book."

"Haven't you got that memorised by now?" She asked with raised eyebrows.

"Yes," I admitted with a laugh, "But there's a beauty to reading it…" I paused, a sudden idea sprung to mind, "Will you read it to me, my love?"

She sighed, but I didn't miss the corners of her lips quirk up in a smile. She waited a short while before she replied, but nodded none-the-less she said, "Of course."

I handed her the small book, and she took a deep breath, before she began to read in her beautifully gentle voice.

"I have come to a point in my journey through life where I am able to imagine things in such detail, I can very nearly touch, feel and smell them. My imagined worlds are almost more real to me than that of reality, and dare I say it? I prefer them much more, in truth. Aside from one small detail, that is… One small detail, which I cannot even be sure was real in real life. He is the one inaccuracy in my imagination. Perhaps the reason I cannot imagine him is because he does not seem real at all. He is better than all real things I have ever seen, or smelt, or touched, or felt. I try my best to use all objects at my imagination's disposal to bring him back to the strange half-life of the imagined state, but I fail dismally each time. Yet, I am somewhat tenacious, so again, and again, I try.

"I give him eyes the colour of late afternoon sunlight, I give him teeth as perfect as two rows of sixteen faultless, and glimmering pearls. I have him hair as soft as silk, the colour of the rays of sunlight that filter through the trees out in the orchards during summer. I give him lips the soft pink of peony roses, like those that grew by my grandmother's front porch, and I give him skin as soft and smooth as my mother's finest set of sheets, blowing in the soft breeze near me. Sometimes I even give him something by his side to make him smile. If I'm feeling audacious enough, it will be a sixteen-year-old girl with a broken leg, who somehow managed to make him laugh – a sound finer than any symphony. There is wisdom in his eyes, and kindness in his brow that can never be imagined through anything else but a memory, for he has the kind of gentility that would make even the good Lord envious, which is particularly impossible… but the man who I fail to give justice to in my imagination had such goodness that I have never encountered before that I fear I must admit, I will forever believe that his place is not in a memory, but rather, in front of me, so I can learn all of him, and should I ever find him gone, I would know almost enough to keep me warm when the winter brings its usual solitary loneliness.

"My imagination is flawed, you see, for the thing I want most fervently, is the one thing that it will never bring.

"Therefore! I say, he must be real, for I am not capable of fathoming anything so marvellous from scratch. If there is a Lord, if there is a God, from now until eternity he will forever be proof of that existence. The day he was born, was the day Heaven mourned the loss of an angel, and Earth never knew it should celebrate. So celebrate, I will, for I know, I love, and I see the truth, I have it here, imagined imperfectly, right in front of me, all from a memory of scantly half an hour in his company. I will keep it always with me, as blemished as it may be.

"Good day, good doctor…

"Forever, your Esme."

She paused for a beautiful moment, and then let out a small laugh, "If you think this is any indication of my love for you, I should hastily point out that what I feel for you now is tenfold the amount of what the girl who wrote this believe she felt."

"Will you write it for me?" I wondered quietly.

She considered it for a brief moment, before she turned her head slightly, and captured my eyes with her own, "I suppose I could try, but blank pages would be more indicative, for words could never aptly express it. I should also inform you, good doctor, that I am now more proficient at expressing my emotions in paint, and smudged charcoal. I could draw my love more accurately, if you'd prefer, but it may take me a thousand years even to think of a place to begin. I do think it impossible to paint something that is infinite."

"You could try," I teased, to which she laughed.

"Very true, and perhaps I shall," she reached around to tap me on the nose. Her eyes sparkled with happiness, and I couldn't help the sense of pride that swelled in my chest as I contemplated that _I _was the reason for such happiness.

"In a thousand years, I'll see if you have decided on a place to start." I murmured, leaning a little closer to her as her eyes flicked down to my lips.

"It sounds like an agreement," she breathed.

I grinned, "I do like our agreements."

"Hmmm? Yes. We make good agreements."

"Do you know my favourite?" I pulled back slightly, and she blinked a few times, before smiling brightly at me.

"I think I have a fair idea, and I think it may be the same as mine, but pray tell."

I chuckled, "My favourite agreement we made was to wed each other."

"And once again, we are in agreement," she murmured, leaning in closer. I beamed as her lips finally pressed against mine lightly. We had to be very careful with the kind of kisses we shared during times when we weren't alone, for innocent kisses had a way of heating up almost immediately.

The sound of the door nearly swinging off its hinges pushed me into pulling away. I looked up curiously to see Edward standing on the porch near the back door.

"Are you two really going to sit out here all day with your sentimental little love stories and leave me to check that we have everything? Leave me to do all of the work?" He huffed in annoyance, and pinched the bridge of his nose, "You're worse than the characters in one of those goulash Austen novels."

"Edward, stop being such a grouser!" Esme called back, "And wasn't it just the other day that you were reading one of those such novels?"

He huffed, "Well I'd nothing else to do."

"I think somebody is a little grouchy because he's anxious to fly his airplane," I joined in, and Edward growled.

"I am not grouchy. I am merely fed up that I'm doing all the work."

"Take a break then, dear," Esme smirked, "Read an Austen novel if you've nothing else to do."

Edward huffed, and I tried to hide my smile.

"You two are acting more like siblings than parents today," he noted.

Esme shrugged in reply, "Yes, well, sometimes that happens when newlyweds get interrupted," she teased.

Finally, Edward's icy demeanour dropped, and his face melted into his regular crooked smile, "You've got me," he muttered.

Esme laughed exuberantly, "You may be the mind reader, dear, but I can read your face. I apologise on behalf of the both of us for getting a little bit carried away."

Edward sighed, "Your apology is accepted, but Carlisle is right. I'm anxious to see my plane."

Esme nodded, and placed a kiss upon my cheek before she stood up, and I followed suit. I couldn't wipe the silly smile off my face as I grabbed my wife's hand and headed toward our son. My thoughts while kissing her hadn't at all been bad enough to warrant such a reaction from Edward, so I could only conclude that hers had been.

Edward shot me a warning glance, which I took as confirmation, and smiled wider. _You'll understand someday, son_ I thought, _It's a strange, yet wondrous thing to know somebody loves you like that. _

"What are you two discussing?" Esme wondered, looking from Edward to me. She raised both of her eyebrows when neither of us answered and pursed her lips, "I suppose that means I don't want to know, doesn't it?"

Edward smirked in reply, which earned him a reproving look from his mother. I made sure I averted my eyes away from her so she wouldn't catch me with that stare and coax me into revealing everything to her. I'd fallen into that trap before.

She gave up with a sigh not long after, and we made our way into the house. She was a flutter of movement as our final hours at home whittled away. When the afternoon arrived we were all ready to go. Esme had bode farewell to her beloved attic and master bedroom, but didn't care much for the other rooms, so they only got a quick farewell.

"Well, that's it, washroom that they finally let me wash clothes in, kitchen I once cooked things in, dining room guests did dine in," she stood in the middle of the hallway, as I leaned up against the archway that led into the sitting room. Edward sat on the bottom steps of Esme's beloved staircase, and watched her intently.

_She's changed a lot in such a short time, hasn't she?_ I thought, listening to her voice the little differences she made.

Edward gave me a small nod, and his lips quirked up at the sides.

_Sometimes, I think it's all to good to be real, I don't want to get used to it in case she disappears._

Edward shook his head.

_That's not going to happen, right?_

He just smiled at me.

"Conversing without me again?" Esme teased, standing across from me with her hands on her hips.

I shook my head and grinned, "I was merely contemplating how long you will love me."

She cocked her head to the side, and stated as simply as the colour of the sky, "Forever."

"All right," Edward interjected as he rose from his perch on the stairs, "There's plenty of time for that when I'm not around. Shall we head off?"

"Eager for the airplane?" Esme grinned.

Edward chuckled and nodded, "Goodbye house!" He called as he exited through the front door. I knew this was merely to tease Esme, and I would have berated him for it, but she took it in good jest and giggled.

"Are you ready?" I wondered.

She nodded, making her way over to me. I offered her my arm, grinning down at her.

"It's true, you know," she murmured seriously, "I will love you forever. Please don't doubt that."

I bent down to place an adoring kiss upon her lips, "I wouldn't dream of it, my love," I reassured her.

She beamed, "Well, I suppose we should get to it then."

"I'm going to miss this house," I murmured as we walked toward the front door, "More than any other house I've ever owned."

"We can come back," she reminded me.

I nodded, "And we will. I'm sure of that."

Nodding, she reached the open front door, and I committed the scene to memory. The first time I ever walked up those porch steps and through that old wooden door was in the middle of the night with Edward trailing behind me. The house had been empty and somewhat haunting as the wind rocked it from side to side, but it was the darkness that bothered me most. Although my life with Edward was more rewarding and full than the life I lived before, it had not been as full back then as it was now. Now, as Esme stood in the doorway with the bright day behind her, her hand outstretched a little, and a small smile on her lips, I sent a thankful prayer to God for her and all the change she brought me.

"Are you two coming?" Edward called from the car.

I sighed, and Esme chuckled, "We'd better get going."

Nodding, I reached out for her hand, "We'd better."

So she pulled me out of our wooden farmhouse, pausing briefly for me to shut to the door and all the way to the Duesenberg that idled on the driveway. Edward sat in the drivers seat, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel most impatiently, just to let us know how eager he was to get to the small field on the very outskirts of Ashland County where his plane was being stored.

Esme smiled indulgently at our son, shaking her head as she hopped in the car. "This is a big thing for us, Edward. Thank you for understanding."

I hopped in the car, and secured the door shut beside me. Looking over to my two family members I took a deep breath, "Do we have everything?"

"Yes," Edward replied in a monotone, driving forward down the driveway, "Yes we are ready, no, there's nothing we need in town, and no, there isn't anywhere else we'd like to go before we leave."

I chuckled as Edward sped down the windy driveway, but I didn't even get a chance to look back at the house that flipped my life on its head. Esme's hand slipped into mine, and with a reassuring smile from my darling wife, we left our little farmhouse behind.

The small airfield was on the edge of Ashland County, just east of a small town named Saxon. We pulled off the gravel road, and parked the car on the grass beside the road, and clambered out of the cab. The sky was partly cloudy, clear enough for good views while Edward flew, but cloudy enough that the sunlight would not bother us.

A large barn-type construction was at the end of the road, and Edward marched toward it with a grin on his face.

I offered her my arm, which she took with a giggle, and we followed our enthusiastic son toward the bar.

The owner of the field, who had agreed to let me store the plane in his empty barn in exchange for his medical fees to be waived, met us with a wide grin and firm handshake when we knocked on the wooden door. He led us around the back of the barn where he opened two very large doors with Edward's and my help. Sitting there, in all its glory, was a rich green Airco DH.4. It had one large propeller on it's nose, two parallel wings stretching from left to right, in the middle of these two wings was the body, and more importantly, the cockpit, which Edward was all ready climbing into.

"You know how to fly this thing, son?" The owner of the barn asked.

"I do," Edward smiled back reassuringly.

"Good-o," he murmured nodding, "She's nice, isn't she? I wouldn't have minded one of these for myself. No matter, no matter. It'll be enough just to see her fly."

"You can fly one?" Edward wondered, as he played around with the controls inside.

"'Course I can!" The man grinned, "O'course I can. But I'll let you get to it, I'd not be happy if an old joker like myself kept me waiting if I were in your shiny shoes."

Edward grinned, and nodded to the man, as I felt Esme stiffen by my side.

"Are you all right?" I wondered, looking down at her worried face.

She pursed her lips, "Just worried."

"You'll be fine, love," I reassured her, but she shook her head.

"Oh I know _I'll_ be fine, it's just…" She nodded to the plane, "That thing doesn't look safe."

Edward chuckled, and shook his head indulgently toward his mother, before driving the plane forward onto the grass.

The engine putted as he idled on the field, growing louder with every minute that drew closer to his take off. We watched on intently as he fiddled with some switches and levers.

"Will he really be able to fly this thing after just reading books about it, Carlisle? Do you think perhaps we should have got him lessons first? Would that have been safer?" Esme asked with a slight panicked tone to her voice.

"I'm sure he'll be just fine, love," I reassured her, "Don't forget, the human man has flown before, and I'll not hesitate to wager that our son has had a peek into his mind."

"Yes, mother!" Edward called from the field, "Have a little faith in me."

"I have a lot of faith in you dear," Esme called back, "I do not however, have any reason to place my faith in the creator of this plane!"

Edward flicked her a cheeky grin, "Need I remind you this was your idea?"

Esme groaned, and eyed the plane distrustfully, "I didn't think it would be like this."

"What did you think it would be like, love?" I wondered curiously.

"Less… stressful," she admitted in a small voice.

Edward chuckled from the field, "Well, hold your breath mother… here I go!"

The engine quickly grew louder as the wheels of the plane began to move forward.

I heard Esme take in a deep breath and mutter, "Dear Lord!" under her breath, before she turned around to glare at the barn owner.

"Love, he will be all right," I murmured in reassurance.

"I'm sorry Carlisle, dear, but unless you can see the future, I cannot take your word for that."

I let out a little chuckle under my breath, but that earned me a very unhappy look from my darling wife, as she turned to stare back at the plane, which was gaining speed with every second that passed.

I split my attention between my son in the speeding aircraft, and my wife by my side, who was standing a little too still to pass as a human.

"Are you feeling anxious, my darling?" I wondered.

She didn't move, she merely hummed in reply.

Knowing fully well I would earn myself a glare for my next comment, I said it anyway, "May I suggest wringing your hands, or shifting your feet?"

She exhaled in the exact fashion I expected and slowly turned to eye me warningly, "Our son is in a dangerous contraption that is speeding at some dangerous speed to achieve a very dangerous goal, and you think this is time for a lesson on how to act human?"

I pursed my lips, "I'm just being mindful of the human in the doorway, love," I replied in what I hoped to be a soothing tone.

Her golden orbs shifted to the fidgeting old man in the doorway, and then back to me before she sighed, and shifted her feet.

"I apologise," she murmured, "I shouldn't have spoken to you like that."

I gave her a comforting smile, "It's quite all right love, but I assure you, Edward will be just fine. Look," I nodded to the aircraft on the field, "He's about to take off."

She took a deep breath and looked back out to our son. The front wheels of the craft had just begun to lift off of the ground. Only a few seconds later, the back wheels lifted off too, and then, Edward was flying.

After a few short moments of watching anxiously as the plane rose in the sky, the human disappeared from the doorway behind us, and Esme relaxed.

"I don't trust airplanes," she muttered.

I grinned. "Yes, I noticed that."

She pursed her lips and looked up at me, but the glint in her eyes alerted me to her improved mood. I merely smirked back at her until she turned away laughing.

Moments later, she gasped. "Carlisle!" She exclaimed, pointing one gloved hand in the air, "Is it dropping? Is Edward dropping?"

"No love," I murmured, watching the biplane intently – I couldn't see it dropping, "He's not dropping."

I quickly scanned the field for any onlookers, but the place was empty, so I stepped closer to my wife as she asked frantically, "If it crashes, will he be all right?"

I wrapped my arms around her waist and brought my lips to her neck, "He will be fine love, just breathe."

She did as I suggested, and then slumped back into my embrace, "Airplanes were a horrible idea, Carlisle."

I couldn't help my chuckle as I rested my forehead on the top of her hat, "I think it looks quite fun."

"Dangerous is more like it," she muttered darkly.

The Airco-DH 4 could fly for roughly three hours, so Esme and I watched the skies intently as Edward made the most of that time flying far enough away that our observation was useless. He did come back for a sort time every once in a while, possibly to calm Esme's nerves, and possibly to show off. I was inclined to believe the latter when he did a barrel roll on the second time that he made appearance in the visible skies. Had Esme's heart still been pumping blood, I was sure it would have stopped.

After two hours of flying time Edward came back and surprised me as he approached the ground to land. Esme watched anxiously as the plane headed for the grass.

"He's going to fast, he won't be able to stop," she whispered with wide eyes.

I kissed her on the head, "He will be all right, love," I told her for the thousandth time – not that I minded, I loved trying to comfort her.

She sighed again, and let me hug her tighter, as she watched on with bated breath. Edward's landing was perfect, and Esme was most relieved.

He parked the plane on a spot near the runway and disembarked, before jogging over to a us with a wide grin on his lips.

"How would you like a go, old man?" Edward wondered, holding out the key in offering.

I eyed the small metal object with great interest, knowing full well that Edward was completely aware of my eagerness to experience flying. I wandered over to the machine and gazed at it.

"Would you like to come, love?" I wondered, as I brushed my hands along the wing, and looked up to Esme.

She bit her lip uncertainly, "I don't think it's quite safe, Carlisle." Her voice was filled with fear and worry, it pulled at my heart, and I could barely resist the urge to wrap her in a hug.

"Just think mother," Edward injected "If you go with him and crash, you'll die together."

I felt my forehead crease, "Edward, that's a terrible thing to say," I murmured, but he just nodded toward Esme's calculating expression.

"All right," she sighed, taking a step toward the plane, "I'll go."

Edward tossed me the keys and I climbed up into the cockpit. There was only one seat, so Esme would have to sit on my lap. I offered her my hand as Edward offered her his as well, to help her look human as she climbed up into the aircraft.

Having her on my lap was most distracting as Edward leaned into the cockpit and explained how to fly the machine, especially as she squirmed with nervousness.

"Do you understand?" Edward wondered, once he was done with his lesson.

I nodded, _I think so_… "Yes," I tried to sound confident so not to alarm Esme, but I couldn't deny my slight nervousness.

"It's not hard," Edward assured me, "You'll pick it up, easy."

I smiled and thanked him, hoping he was right. He backed away from the plane and ran back into the hanger.

"So now, of all times, you decide to squirm when you're nervous, love?" I teased.

She giggled, "It takes my mind of this," she confessed in a whisper.

I felt my eyes widen, "You did that on purpose?!"

She turned around a little to place a sweet kiss upon my lips but that really didn't help matters at all.

She took a deep breath, "Let's get this thing going."

I nodded, and worked a moment on calming myself before I started the engine, and guided the plane to the grassy runway.

"At any moment if you want to come back down and hop out, you tell me, all right?" I murmured to Esme, who had become absolutely still on my lap.

"Yes," she breathed.

"Are you all right?" I wondered, but she merely hummed in reply.

Deciding that if she wanted to hop out all ready, she would tell me, I began to drive forward. The aircraft gained speed as we travelled down the runway, until it was going much faster than our car could ever dream of going. I grew more nervous as the end of the runway came in sight, wondering if we would make it up in time, or if we would run into the longer grass. Soon, my nervousness gave into a much different… strange feeling. The speed was not something that was foreign to Esme or I, in fact we could run faster than this plane could go, but the compression when the front wheels lifted off the ground was an entirely new experience. Esme let out a little whine, but remained frozen.

"It's all right, love," I murmured distractedly, focussing on Edward's instructions, "We're all right."

When the back wheels left the ground, a strange feeling of weightlessness came over me, but it was still masked by the compression. I directed the plane upwards, climbing at a quick rate, and Esme stared out the window with eyes the size of saucers.

She came out of shock, and began to breathe heavily; she kept on opening and closing her mouth as if she was trying to fathom words to say, but couldn't.

I grinned to myself, and allowed myself a look out the window. We were still climbing so the angle was strange, but it was a beautiful view already. The dark green grass of the airfields was beautiful in contrast to the grey and blue sky.

When I'd climbed high enough, I levelled the plane so we were no longer at a peculiar angle to the ground, and thankfully, Esme came out of her frozen state.

"This is not natural!" She yelled, surprising me, "Oh my word! The ground is… the ground is so far down! And the clouds are so close! This… oh my word! Oh. My. Word!" She breathed in and out for a short while to calm herself as I flew toward the sea. "This is a better view than at the top of all the trees," she whispered, and then she went into hysterics. She couldn't stop laughing.

So, in turn, I began laughing loudly too, but that panicked her, "Don't crash the plane!"

"Sorry, love," I murmured, but my smile remained.

"This is incredible, Carlisle. This is just… This must be what it's like for birds. Oh, I wish I were a bird. This is just something else…It's not real life. I _must _be dead."

I chuckled, "Love, trust me. You're very much alive."

"But the ground… Carlisle… We're _flying_!"

I nodded, resting my chin on her shoulder, and keeping my eyes on the sky in front of us, "That we are."

Her reaction was most amusing, and her endearing observations kept my smile upon my face as I flew toward our old home. It didn't take too long for the small silver settlement to appear on the edge of the green land, next to the blue ocean, and Esme gasped when she saw it.

"Isn't it just the smallest thing?" She cooed, "Oh, it's so cute!"

I chuckled, "I suppose you could say that, all though I know of cuter things."

She grinned, but ignored my comment, "And the ocean, ooh! Look at the islands, don't they just look beautiful?"

I agreed, and circled around the area for a short time as the afternoon came to a close, and the sun dropped low in the sky.

"It looks like we got the sunset, love," I murmured into her ear, and her head whipped around to look out the right window. The most beautiful smile spread across her face as she watched her favourite phenomenon happen over the Apostle Islands that lay near the town we both loved.

As I flew around the area for a while, we took turns pointing out places we'd been. Esme got very excited when she spotted our old farmhouse, so excited, she even started sobbing, "It's just so beautiful up here," she whispered, "I can't handle this much beauty."

I chuckled, "I have to handle this much beauty every single day," I pointed out, "Multiple times a day, and I love it."

Her brow furrowed, "Carlisle, what do you mean? What do you see every day that's as beautiful as this?"

I grinned, and answered simply, "You."

She tried to hide her beaming smile as she shook her head and looked away, but I caught it.

"In fact," I added, "This has nothing on you, love."

She laughed exuberantly, "Thank you, but you can stop now."

I just shook my head, "Never."

After forty minutes in flying over Ashland and the surrounding towns, I had to turn the plane around to give us enough time to get back to te airfield before the plane couldn't take anymore flying. Forty minutes was, however, long enough to change my beloved wife's mind about flying.

"We'll definitely have to get this machine brought up to Halifax if we can, but if we can't, can we get another one?" She wondered.

I reassured her, "Of course, of course we can, love." Because I'd do anything for that wife of mine, and as I turned the plane around and headed back to the airfield, she kept her eyes fixated on the small settlement fading away in the distance below us.

She gingerly lifted one of her tiny hands up to the glass, and a small smile played upon her gentle lips, "For now, Ashland…" she whispered, "Goodbye."

Edward met us with a smirk upon his face as we landed at the airfield when the darkness had reclaimed the land.

"I take it you enjoyed the experience, dear mother?" He teased.

She sighed as she hopped out of the aircraft and took the hand he offered to help him down, "You all ready know the answer to that," she grinned.

Edward chuckled in a very satisfied way, and I soon joined them on the ground. As much as I enjoyed flying in the sky, I much preferred my feet on the ground.

"And you, old man?" Edward wondered.

I took a deep breath, "Well I can definitely tell you that was not something I ever thought I'd do back in the day, but I can't say I didn't enjoy it."

"Good," Edward grinned, "I hope to see more aircrafts in our future."

We three left the plane in the safety of the hanger, with a note on the front thanking the owner of the 'airfield' for taking good care of it, and informing him that in return, he was free to use the plane as he may see fit, after all, we weren't entirely sure if we would ever see it again.

When we made it back to the car I was reminded of the future road trip that I was not overly enthused about. The whole thing was somewhat of a logistical nightmare, and I wasn't even sure if it would work out. The highways around America had improved greatly in recent times, but I wasn't sure that they were quite as extensive as Edward promised they were. It would have been a better idea to just run to Halifax, but I couldn't say no to Edward. He wanted the Duesenberg so much, but I was somewhat regretting my lack of authority as we climbed in the car and began our journey. My worst fear was that I'd put my family in danger, and fail them if this didn't work out.

But Edward was so excited, and I promised we'd try, so there we were. The three of us drove down the dirt road, seated very close to one another in the front seat as Edward recounted his every minute in the plane earlier that day with a large smile on his face, and Esme listened on intently. Their happiness could almost distract me from the nerves in my stomach, but I couldn't quite give myself fully to their light-hearted conversation, so I withdrew, and instead, I watched in the rear-view mirror as the last of Ashland County disappeared behind, and there was only one thing I could think – for now, Ashland…_ Goodbye._

* * *

_A.N. Hi guys! This topic wasn't actually going to be a chapter but once I realised how long it had been since I posted, I quickly just whipped this up because it was easy and there wasn't much though that had to go into it. Shall I give you all the excuses for why I've been so long? Nah, let's just say personal sickness and med school don't mix well and result in far too much time in hospitals. Safe to say I don't like being the one in the gown._

_When I can get some time to write the next chapter - the family will run into some trouble (Edward's fault), but it will all end in a fun adventure (and Carlisle feeling pretty down on himself) so that's what we've got to look forward to coming up next!__Hopefully it won't be too long in the making._

_Thanks again for all your support. Much love. _


	51. Home (A Canvas of Grand Proportions)

_Chapter Fifty-One: Home_

_In Transit, December 1921_

_Esme_

The rain began to pour down in sheets somewhere between Ashland County and Mackinaw City. I counted the miles for a while when Edward and I ran out of things to talk about, and Carlisle grew quieter and quieter with his eyes glued to the road, but I lost count when the roads became desolate junctions of grey skies and muddy sludge on the ground. I'd given up hope in trying to engage either of the two men in any form of conversation because it was utterly apparent that neither were in any kind of mood to converse, although I was acutely aware from the every changing tones of Edward's sighs that they indeed were conversing, but the topic was not one that was deemed appropriate for my ears. So perhaps my silence was a little bit of a miffed one too.

After nearly six hours driving in the dark rain, the buildings that sparsely scattered the landscape began to appear closer to one another, until we found ourselves in a quiet little settlement. Carlisle navigated the streets, which turned from dirt to stone when we reached a point that was obviously densely populated, and somehow managed to bring us to a dock. He parked the car and gave me a brief smile before opening the door, and hopping out as quickly as possible to avoid letting too much rainwater in. Carlisle pulled his jacket closer to his body and dashed to a small dwelling near the shores of the Straits of Makinac. He had hired a railroad car ferry to take our automobile across the river – this wasn't strictly allowed seeing as though railroad car ferries were designed for trains and not private automobiles, but one would be quite surprised exactly what a lofty sum of money could achieve – but from where we had parked, there was no boat in sight.

Edward checked his wristwatch, "We're on time," he murmured, his dark mood still colouring his brow.

Carlisle knocked on the door of the small house, and turned around with pursed lips, surveying the area, obviously noting the very same missing object that we had. The door swung open and a large man with red cheeks appeared with an unhappy look upon his face.

"Good evening, my name is Dr. Carlisle Cullen…"

"Ah yes," the man nodded, cutting him off, "You're out of luck, sir. Ferry is stuck on the wrong side of the strait. Some emergency, don't remember what though. Won't be back for a while."

I saw Carlisle's jaw tighten, "Do you have a rough estimate of how long?"

The man shrugged, "You're probably looking at three days."

Carlisle's lips pursed again, his expression was set in unhappiness. He gave a stiff nod, "Thank you for your time."

The man shrugged again, and slammed the door in Carlisle's face. He let out a soft sigh, and turned around to make his way back to the car. He didn't run, or hurry as he would have usually, just to keep up appearances, but rather he walked slowly in the rain with his shoulders slightly slumped, and a calculating expression upon his face.

When he reached the car he got in silently, and then ran his fingers through his hair, "I suppose you both heard that?" He wondered.

Edward and I nodded.

Carlisle looked to me with sad eyes, "I'm sorry love," he whispered.

"Whatever for?" I wondered, "This is just an adventure. If we have to get out and run, that's okay. If we have to wait, that's all right, and if we have to find another way, that's fine too."

He stared at me for a while longer with something akin to wonder in his eyes, and then gave me a brief tight smile, before turning to Edward.

"What are your views, son?" He wondered.

Edward shrugged, "Find another way, I suppose."

Carlisle's expression tightened again, but he nodded, and turned the car back on once more. Soon enough we were backing out onto the road and drive back the way we came.

"There's no other way of crossing the river," Edward explained after hearing my somewhat confused thoughts, and then let out a laugh, "So back to Ashland we go."

As we drove for another six hours back to Ashland, the boys explained that the quickest way around the lakes, which required no boats, was through a small town called Grand Portage, roughly three hours north west of Duluth. Edward seemed enthusiastic about the extra time spent driving, but it was highly obvious that Carlisle was not. I realised then, what the friction between the two mean could be accredited to – Edward thought this journey was a good idea, but Carlisle did not. I wasn't certain how I could improve Carlisle's mood, so in the absence of any good ideas, I acted upon no impulse, and sat in my seat with my hands on my lap the entire journey.

We drove straight through Grand Portage when we reached it sometime in the morning, and onto a fast paced gulley of water called Pigeon River. There was a medium sized bridge connecting the two sides, which Carlisle was driving quickly toward.

"Is that safe?" I wondered. It was the first time in a good four hours that any of us had spoken.

Edward shrugged, "I guess we'll see."

Carlisle nodded, and gave me a small smile, "People use it all the time, love. We'll be fine."

Edward sighed and rolled his eyes, leaning his head against the glass, and I took that as my cue not to ask any more questions in fear of furthering their friction any more.

I did not like crossing the river one bit, although it was not as bad as the first moments taking off in the plane. No matter how unpleasant, we made it across just fine.

We drove for a while after, until we reached a city either named Fort William or Port Arthur (the boys weren't sure), and Edward requested that Carlisle pull over.

"I'd like to run for a short time," the young boy said curtly.

"To where?" Carlisle asked curiously, in his ever-gentle manner.

"Around," Edward offered no more explanation.

One of Carlisle's eyebrows quirked upward but he asked no further questions. So, instead, I did.

"He meant, where will we meet you once you are done?"

Edward eyed me curiously, as I tried to deduce if there was any other contributing factors to his somewhat surely mood.

He merely shrugged, and turned away, "One hundred miles ahead, along the coast line. I'll do a brief hunt, and meet you in, say, three hours?"

Carlisle pulled the car over in a side street, where Edward got out and offered me a small smile before walking off down the road.

"Would you like to have a look around, or continue on, love?" Carlisle wondered.

I looked around out the window, the darkness was in full swing, and the town looked to be mostly asleep, "What is the time?" I wondered.

"About half passed four in the morning."

"Let's carry on," I murmured, "Unless you want a break from driving?"

He smiled and shook his head, before placing a quick kiss on my cheek and turning the car back on.

I moved to shuffle to the other side of the seat, but Carlisle shook his head and grabbed my hand before I could.

"I like having you close," was his only justification, and it was more than enough.

He didn't let go of my hand as he drove, and I could see that although his mood was still far from stellar, it was much better without Edward in the car. The atmosphere was lighter, more pleasant.

When we had driven far enough away from the city, I decided to ask him what was wrong.

"Carlisle?" I wondered.

"Yes, love?" His eyes flicked to me and softened for a moment before flicking back to the road.

"What is the matter with Edward?"

Carlisle shook his head and sighed, "We've just a had a minor disagreement, that's all love."

I stroked his hand with my thumb, "It doesn't truly seem that minor."

Carlisle smiled a small smile, "I am of the opinion that driving to Halifax is not the wisest idea, yet Edward believes it to be splendid."

"Then why is it us in the car, and he on his feet?"

Carlisle laughed, "Exactly. The roads are not quite up to the standard that Edward believes, and you know how he gets sometimes. It's very hard to him to see that he is wrong – he is more than able to accept it, but seeing it is the hard part."

"True," I nodded, "But that doesn't seem enough to elicit such a reaction in him. It usually takes more to rile him up as such."

Carlisle offered no reply, by my mind came up with a conclusion of it's own.

"Carlisle Cullen!" I exclaimed, "What have you been saying to him in that head of yours?"

He let out a single laugh, and wore a small smile, "Nothing truly horrible. Mostly, I've just been upset with myself. I should have never been soft enough to allow this in the first place. I need to learn how to tell him no. I knew it was a bad idea, and Mackinaw City confirmed that."

I pursed my lips, "Pull over."

He glanced at me in confusion.

"Pull over," I insisted.

Looking most bewildered, Carlisle guided the car to the side of the road near the fringe of a forest.

"Now look at me, Doctor Cullen," I instructed, tucking my legs onto the seat beneath me and crawling closer to him.

His eyes revealed his suspicion, but the small smile upon his lips told me that he knew I bore no ill will. I made it to his lap and placed two hands on either side of his face.

"I know you," I murmured, "I know how you are hard on yourself, I know how you berate yourself inside when something you plan doesn't go right, but this was out of your control. And I beg you not to hate the golden softness of yourself for that is one of the many reasons why I adore you so, my darling husband. Your gentleness, and kind heart are rare, and beautiful traits that need never been subject to resentment or hate."

I placed a soft kiss upon his lips, "So tell me, please, promise me, that if something goes wrong in the next forty-eight hours, or however long it will take for us to get to Halifax, you will not spend the rest of the drive torturing your poor self because there are some things in life one can not control."

He reached up to stroke my cheek tenderly, "You are precious, my sweet darling," he murmured.

I grinned, and nodded, to which he chuckled.

"You do not blame me?" He wondered, once the mood had shifted back to its former somewhat somber kind.

I shook my head, "Not one bit. I have no blame to place, you know how I am with adventure, it is as nearly as necessary as blood to me."

Some muted light behind his eyes switched on with rigour as he grinned, "For a slight moment there I though you might tell me it was as necessary as air."

I laughed, "I'll admit, I nearly did."

He nuzzled my nose while smiling one of my most favourite smiles, and I was most glad that his solemn mood had begun to pass.

"May I kiss you again?" He wondered in a whisper.

My eyelids fluttered closed and I smiled at him, "May you kiss me always?" I replied.

He chuckled as his lips softly met mine, in the front seat of the Duesenberg.

It was perhaps, nearly four more hours until we reached our rendezvous location with Edward, who emerged from the trees as we approached. He smiled as he climbed into the car, and wisely did not ask what took us so long.

"It's turned out to be quite the day," he noted, as he gazed up at the bright white sky.

"It has," Carlisle agreed, "High chances of snow?" He wondered.

Edward nodded, "I'd say. I passed some houses not far away, they seemed to be finding the temperature unbearably cold."

"I hope the cloud cover stays dense," Carlisle mused.

"As do I," Edward agreed.

We continued on the road for a short while, the mood in the cab had improved tenfold, but there was still very little conversation to be held. I watched the forest tress fly by, and caught a few glances of the northern end of Lake Superior, and committed them to memory in hopes I could paint them one day. Not even an hour had passed since we rejoined with Edward before the car began to make a most peculiar noise.

"No!" Edward breathed, with eyes as wide as dinner plates, as a dark billow of smoke arising from the machine caught my eye.

Carlisle pulled the car over to the side of the road once more, and the boys hopped out. I followed suit. The smoke was thick and sooty, coming from the engine.

"It's not just overheated," I heard Edward say, "Something is really wrong."

Carlisle sighed, and a half conversation ensued.

I wasn't sure how long it would take the boys to fix the problem, but I could tell it wouldn't be instant. So I wandered back around to the cab and fished through the bags n the back seat until I managed to find my sketchbook and pencils, with a self satisfied smile, I decided to spend the time drawing the beautiful view of the lake to my right.

As the boys worked (and decided that Edward would need to run back to the city to fetch a part, which was bound to take at least three hours) I drew plenty of different sketches of the landscape, and of course, my two favourite inhabitants of the Earth.

When Edward disappeared into town, perhaps forty minutes later, Carlisle joined me on the rocks.

"That's a beautiful drawing," he murmured from behind.

"Hmmm? Oh," I laughed, and gave a little shrug, "Thank you, it's just a rough sketch."

He grinned, "If you call that a rough sketch you should see my finished drawings, they're atrocious." He rubbed my back a little as I grinned up at him.

"Do not lie, Doctor Cullen," I scolded him.

He laughed as he sat down, on a rock not too far away, "Oh, but it's the truth."

"And is it the same sort of truth you tired to feed me when you said you could not play the piano?" I wondered.

He gave me an impish grin, "In my defence, compared to Edward, I can't."

I shook my head indulgently, "One should run their own race, you know."

He agreed with a nod, removing the hat from his head, and running a hand through that lovely corn silk hair of his. He looked out to the lake, and sighed with a small smile on his face, then began to fiddle with the hat he held.

With a private smile, I flicked over a page in my drawing book, and began to roughly sketch my husband. "I see you and Edward are on better terms all ready," I noted quietly, catching his eye, "That was quick."

He gave me a small smile and a brief shrug, "There's nothing like bonding over a broken car."

I raised a cheeky eyebrow, and let out a laugh, "Oh really?"

He grinned and shook his head indulgently, then ran his hands through his hair again, "How about I reiterate that – there's nothing like father and son bonding over a broken car."

"There we go!" I beamed, "That's better."

Carlisle merely shook his head once more, and kept grinning at me.

"Are you drawing me again, love?" He wondered.

I smirked, "I'm always drawing you."

Over the following hours that it took for Edward to return with the needed parts for the broken car, Carlisle and I discussed many topics I never even realised we needed to discuss, which weren't all necessarily related to our move. He wondered if I'd like to learn to drive the car – I informed him I did not. He wondered if I'd like to join Edward and he when they had the odd sparing session – I informed him I did not. He wondered if I would like to choose the colour scheme for the new house all by myself – I informed him that although the idea was very tempting, I would allow he and Edward to have some input, even if it was vetoed by me. He asked if I was particularly keen on meeting his new colleagues – I said, only if he wanted me too, I wasn't fussed. He jokingly wondered if I'd like to learn how to fix the car – I informed him that I most certainly did not. And we talked in such fashion for a great length of time. It was a beautiful and refreshing moment as we sat on the rocky shores, a few stones apart, laughing, and joking, and just having fun.

It took most of the day for the car to be fixed, and it was once again dark before we were able to continue on upon our journey. The stop turned out to be advantageous for us, however, in many more ways than one. The first, being that I had time to truly appreciate the landscape, and fill an entire book with landscapes and portraits of the most beautiful things. The second being that it gave Edward and Carlisle time to actually discuss their little rift, and work it out, and although they spoke in hushed tones, I did manage to catch some of what was going on.

"You're in a better mood," Edward had noted when Carlisle was fitting the part.

There was silence as Carlisle mentally replied.

"Well it hasn't gone wrong at all, look at us, we're having fun, bonding, etcetera… What do you mean Mackinaw? … Perhaps hiring the boat wasn't the best idea… Endanger our family, how? We're just taking a road trip… You're being silly Carlisle… Since when do I talk to you like this? I can talk to you how I like… Pushing the boundaries? What boundaries? I'm free to do as I please… Respect? You are joking, aren't you? I do respect you…" Edward's defensive tone had turned soft, "I respect you more than you'll ever know Carlisle, sometimes I think it is even to my own detriment. I do realize that the only reason we are driving and not running is because it is what I wanted, and I firmly stand by that desire. I do not think this has been a mistake… Of course, I realize how it could be a mistake… I see what you're thinking, but I don't quite understand it to the same extent that you seem to…"

Carlisle sighed, "You are a different person than I, Edward, this is to be expected. As you stated before, you're free to do as you please, therefore you are free to think as you please too. You needn't agree with all I think."

"You think that is a disadvantage of my gift?" Edward was beginning to become irate again.

"No, I don't believe so," Carlisle replied calmly.

"I don't believe my gift has a disadvantage, don't get me wrong, it's most unpleasant sometimes, it has drawbacks, yes, but I cannot think of a _disadvantage_."

Carlisle took a deep breath, and stood up, "Then perhaps you have found it."

Edward's brow furrowed, and he contemplated Carlisle for a moment, as the blonde man cleaned his hands with an old rag. He began to walk around to the back of the car, Edward followed behind him, like a child begging for attention with an unhappy pout upon his face, at that thought, he flicked me a glance, stopped in his tracks, and rearranged his features into a mask of stone.

"I know where this is coming from!" He exclaimed, causing Carlisle to look up with interest, "You've been reading _The Journal of Abnormal Psychology_ again, haven't you? I'm a gifted vampire, Carlisle, not a basket case."

Carlisle laughed, "I've never once implied anything of the sort, Edward. I'm merely pointing out that there are a great deal many things in life that we will disagree on, this trip happens to be one."

"Yes, and another," Edward hissed quietly, "Is your feelings of failing us. I'm failing to understand why you view this trip as such a muck up."

"A day long detour is definitely something I view as a plan gone wrong," Carlisle let out a humourless laugh.

"Well," Edward huffed, "We're not in any danger."

"You are right, and that is key. Here," Carlisle handed Edward an object I couldn't see, "You can fit this one."

"You made the right decision," Edward murmured, Carlisle cocked an eyebrow, "Agreeing to my plan. We're happy here. Look at Esme, look how happy she is drawing and eavesdropping."

"Hey!" I exclaimed, "You two are so loud I can't ignore you."

Edward laughed, "Nor are you trying to."

"What's the point in trying when you're fully aware from previous experience that all attempts will be furtive?"

Carlisle grinned, and flicked a pointed look toward Edward, who sighed and shrugged.

"I apologise," he let out in a huff, "Shall we be passive aggressive, and agree to disagree?"

Carlisle grinned, and held out a hand to shake, "It sounds like a deal."

And with that, the boys ended their somewhat confusing (to a third party such as I) spat.

Not long after we filed back into the car and continued along the road. Night fell a short time later, and the third advantage to our day-long stop became apparent, for as we rounded a corner from a stretch of road that was surrounded by particularly dense bush, the most beautiful sight of Lake Superior was ahead, and above it the sky was green.

A loud gasp escaped my lips as I leaned forward in my seat. Edward let out an excited laugh, and I could just image Carlisle's grin.

"Well aren't we lucky?" He let out a chuckle.

"They're extraordinary," I murmured, as I tried to memorise the green lines, which danced with some red ones too.

"Can we pull over?" Edward wondered.

Carlisle nodded, and guided the car to the edge of the road once more. In my haste to get outside, I nearly pushed him out of the car.

He laughed, "Patience is a virtue, Esme!"

"Nonsense," I shook my head, "I'm all ready married, I need not bother with all of that."

Carlisle's booming laughter echoed throughout the whole night, and I was almost irrationally afraid that he would scare away the startling lights in the sky. Edward's laughter joined in, as he gazed at me with utter fondness, and squeezed my hand in his. My spirits soared with the Northern Lights above, as I looked between the two smiles of the two men I loved.

"Let's get closer to the water!" Edward exclaimed, as he pulled my hand.

I nodded, and ran forward, as Carlisle fished in the car for something. We were nearly at the bushes by the shores of the lake when Carlisle called out our names.

"Esme! Edward!" He was still by the car as Edward tugged at my hand some more. The young boy laughed as we turned our heads only to be met by the flash of the camera and my husband's jubilant laugh.

So, how was I supposed to know, then and there, with spirits soaring with happiness after the resolution of the boy's disagreement, that that was the last picture, for nearly fifteen years, which we would get of Edward's smile?

* * *

_Just Outside Montreal, Quebec, Canada, December 1921_

_Carlisle_

Esme's laughter filled the cab with popping bubbles and ringing bells, as we flew down a country road not too far from Montreal. Edward was muttering away about the silly names we'd chosen as our aliases one day when he wasn't interested, and how unoriginal they were. It was in good jest, I could tell that much just by the way that his eyes shined when my darling wife pursed her lips to show her dimples, and let the laughter bubble from her chest to her lips. I knew her toes would be curling in her shoes as they always did when she laughed like that, oh how her happiness seeped into my veins.

"You couldn't choose anything better than Colin Carlyle? Really?" Edward grinned and shook his head, "And Mason Anthony?"

Another fit of giggles shook Esme's body but she offered no reply. I even found myself chuckling along too, which was a stark difference from my mood earlier in the journey, when thoughts of failure waltzed round in my mind in a never-ending circle. Edward shot me a warning glance, and I could nearly hear his silent prayer that I wouldn't start it up again.

I merely smiled, and promised I wouldn't, so he went back to amusing my wife, and I refocussed my attention on the drive.

Montreal was busy when we arrived midafternoon. Workers, tourists, and city goers bustled down the streets murmuring to one another in fast paced French. We stopped in the city to pick up some documents, and finalise a few things before we carried on to Quebec City, and then to Halifax.

"Bonjour, comment ca va?" I smiled at the bank teller, whose black hair was combed back with much precision and care. Esme and Edward stood behind me, the former looking around with delight and wonder in her eyes at the architecture of the bank, and the latter looking most amused at the other bank customers.

"Tres bien, merci, et vous?" He replied with a friendly smile.

"Oui, tres bein!" I nodded, and quickly withdrew the money I required. As we turned to leave a question popped into my head, "Tell me, have you ever driven to Halifax?" I wondered out of pure curiosity, "Is the journey a good one?"

"Oui, monsieur, the roads have greatly improved recently, you should make it with no issues."

"Merci beaucoup, have a nice day."

He nodded and waved us off. As we walked away I caught Edward grin from the corner of my eye, _What is it?_ I wondered.

He just shook his head, but I got the feeling his gloating smile was saying 'I told you so.' Nonetheless, I still wasn't comfortable with driving such long distances.

"The language is so beautiful," Esme murmured as we walked down the steps from the bank, "But so quick, it's hard to pick up what they're saying sometimes."

"It's the same for their thoughts," Edward murmured, "I understand most things, but it's harder to translate everything and everyone, so instead of thousands of thoughts in my head, it's a little like background noise. I've no doubts that when I become more familiar with the language it will be just like thoughts in English, but I'm thinking the best idea for me would be to move to a foreign speaking country and never bother to learn the language."

Esme laughed, "I'm not sure that you'd be able to avoid learning the language for very long, especially considering that Carlisle and I would have to learn it and you'd be around our thoughts constantly."

I opened the car door for Esme when we reached it and helped her in; Edward entered form the other side.

"Carlisle already thinks in multiple languages, you know."

Esme looked to me with wide eyes, "No, I didn't know that."

I shrugged, and grinned at her as I started the car, "I've had a lot of time to learn many languages, sometimes I like to keep things to myself… like planes."

Edward laughed, and Esme grinned, but her expression soon turned to a contemplative one, "What languages do you know, Edward?"

"All the ones you do, and a few more."

"All right, which ones don't you know?" She wondered.

"I've never learned Greek actually," he murmured, looking out the window, "Perhaps I'll learn that next."

Esme nodded, "I'll have to learn one that you don't know… or perhaps make up one of my own."

Edward chuckled, "But I'll hear you devising it."

"Well, obviously I wouldn't do it when you were within hearing range."

Much of the following hours travelling north, and then east were spent with Esme and Edward conversing in such a fashion.

It was a long drive to Halifax, and the roads were not nearly as good as I was promised they were, on the odd occasion, Edward and I had to get out and push the car. It overheated too many times to count, and took us much longer than it should have to make it to our new home. By the time we arrived, all three of us were covered in mud from head to toe, clothes ruined, hair mattered, but somehow, our spirits were still high. The happiness could be accredited to Esme, for I was very nearly certain that there were many occasion where Edward could have lost his cool and pounced at me. Our conversations had turned to debates, our debates had teetered on the edge of arguments, but Esme had a smile gracing her lips for the most part, and she murmured in her quiet voice about adventures, and I could see in her eyes that she was genuinely enjoying herself.

The fourth time that the car overheated, after we had just pulled it out of one very boggy patch Edward had sighed, and sat down on the side of the road with a very surly look upon his face.

After a short while, he sighed a deep sigh once more, as though he was exhaling all animosity that might have been pent up in his system.

"I suppose," he murmured, pinching the bridge of his nose, "That driving to Halifax wasn't the best idea I have ever had."

I smiled and sat down next to him, clapping him on the back once, "How were we to know this was how it would go. I apologise for not letting the matter drop, really. It's not so bad."

Edward laughed and looked up toward Esme who stood in front of us both with an innocent expression on her mud spluttered face. Her hair was falling out of the neat bun she usually had it in, and her dress (which had started out as pink but was now brown) was ripped in about fourteen different places, and she wore only one shoe, the other half of the pair had decided to bury itself so deep in mud that we were unable to retrieve it.

"Not so bad," he murmured, shaking his head.

Esme pursed her lips, "Do I really look that frightful?" She wondered.

We shook our heads. "You truthfully look beautiful," I murmured.

She laughed fondly, and moved to sit by my side. "It's been a bit of fun," she murmured, "You do have to remember, my city boys, that I was raised on a farm and I've always been partial to mud."

Edward laughed, "I can imagine."

We soon fell into silence as we waited for the steam to stop rising from the Duesenberg's engine.

"What is it going to look like, pulling into the realtor's office in Halifax to pick up the house key, looking like we do?" Edward wondered.

"Very peculiar, I'd say." Esme murmured, "But this family doesn't really have a history of fitting in, does it?"

We managed to clean the car on the edges of Halifax, and quickly change into fresh clothes, so we didn't look so peculiar as we arrived at the realtor's office in the morning. The man was a standoffish, middle aged and slightly frightened red head, who eyed us with a mixture of curiosity and distrust, but handed over the brass key without very many questions. He provided brief instructions as to how to reach the property on the edges of town that I purchased not long ago, and all too eagerly bid us farewell.

We headed east toward the water, and not twenty minutes later we pulled off the road onto a barely discernable gravel driveway with overgrown plants on either side. As we neared the house I grew more and more anxious, wondering what Esme would think of the house that I bought her. Would the aspect be right? Would there be enough light? Would it feel like a home? Was there enough work to be done? Was there too much work to be done? What if she wanted a house that was completely different to the stone house that lay in a small clearing at the end of the long drive?

My hands clenched on the wheel as my stomach flipped with more and more unease. Esme shifted by my side, and gingerly reached her fingers out to brush my knuckles. I looked down to her and she smiled reassuringly up at me. I wanted to relax, and I did a little, but her happiness meant far too much to me, I could not forget my worries. I forced a smile, but it didn't fool her for a second.

"Here it comes," Edward murmured, eyes fixed on the clearing ahead.

Esme's head quickly turned back to face the windscreen, as her eyes flamed with curiosity.

The trees parted to reveal a somewhat circular clearing filled with greatly overgrown grass, dead flowers, and far too many weeds, which tightly hugged a white stoned, small manor with a roof that looked to be crumbling, and had foliage growing out of it. There were two chimneys that looked to be inspired by the leaning tower of Pisa, and a tiny stone porthole on the second storey above the front door, which looked as though it was stolen from the lost wreck of the _Titanic_. The windows however were large, despite being grimy and smashed, and the door was understated, but it had an elegant beauty to it. Esme didn't say a word when she saw the house, but I noted that she didn't look too disappointed, in fact her eyes were still alight with excitement.

I pulled up a short way from the house and helped her out, as Edward jumped out the other side.

She slipped her hand inside of mine as we headed toward the two story stone house. She let her free hand run through the wayward plants we navigated, and she smiled a delicate smile as we neared the house. I readied the key, and as we came to a stop in front of the door, I slipped it into the hole.

Opening the door and ushering her in, I announced, "I give thee a canvas of grand proportions!"

She giggled and beamed at me before laying her eyes on the old, creaky house. They first fell on the staircase, which was immediately left of the door. It's battered stairs, covered in dust, curved around the corner of the room, and then ran parallel to the hallway until it disappeared into the upper floor. I watched as she turned around and gazed down the long hallway, with grimy walls that may have once been white, and chipped, dented, and dusty wooden floorboards. It took a sharp left turn a far way from the front door, and a large arch in the direct path of the houses entrance opened up into the main room. Esme curiously began to walk forward with careful precision, as her eyes readily swallowed in her surroundings. At the end of the staircase on the right wall were two closed doors, one of which she gingerly opened by gently twisting the brass knob. It opened up into an empty rectangular room with large floor to ceiling windows, surrounded my intricate moulding, on each of its two exterior walls. I could see from the look in her eyes that she was all ready planning things for the room. The morning light filtered through the windows, making perfectly clear the streams of dust that were floating all about the room. Esme wandered to the center, and stood in the streams of light looking around with astoundment.

"Do you like it?" I murmured, feeling mostly at ease but with a slight worry in my stomach.

Her mouth fell ajar, and slowly she shook her head. The worry I felt slowly began to increase, but there was a logical nagging in the back of my brain that told me she _must _adore it.

"It's… it's too perfect to merely _like_… Are you sure… Are you sure this is ours, Carlisle? Are you positively certain that we may keep this house and live in it? Because if you are not, we'd best leave now before I can fall in love with it anymore."

I beamed, and the worry left my stomach, being replaced with sheer pride and excitement, "I am certain, my love, this is ours to keep."

She shook her head in wonder, then her eyes fell on me and she beamed.

I held out the key to her as proof, and she bolted to me, wrapping her slim arms around my body, and burying her head in my chest.

"Oh, thank you, Carlisle, thank you, thank you, thank you."

My arms automatically wrapped around her and held her to me tightly, as I buried my face in her hair, "Anything for you, my love. Anything at all."

There was a quiet sigh from the doorway, as Edward's figure disappeared, but I payed it no mind as I held my wife tight. After a short while her excitement became too much to allow anymore of our embrace, so she pulled away and grasped the brass key in her delicate little fingers, before she danced out of the room and began to investigate the house more.

I stood in the hallway, watching her flutter in and out of every room, with love in my heart, leaning up against the grimy wall.

Edward soon came to stand next to me with his hands in his pockets. He wore a strange expression as he watched Esme excitedly explore the house. When, after some time, he didn't respond to the curiosity in my mind, I decided to voice my befuddlement.

"What are you thinking?" I wondered.

He let out a small huff and shifted his feet awkwardly, as though fighting some internal battle. He screwed up his face a little and then groaned.

"Okay," he muttered, running a hand through his hair, "You win."

I watched in a bemused silence as he sauntered darkly away wondering what exactly I'd won.

It wasn't until I caught sight of the sheer excitement on Esme's face once more that I realised he was referring to our little competition over who could give Esme the best gift.

I'd no hope in smothering the jubilant laughter that rose from my chest.

"Took you long enough!" Edward called from somewhere not too far away.

_I think I just found the key,_ I thought to him, visualising the rusty old key in my wife's hands, _Literally._

* * *

_A.N. Hello again! This was originally supposed to be two chapters, but I decided I didn't like it as two chapters, it didn't feel right, so that explains why there's a Point of View change in the middle there (In fact, I didn't even like the first half at all). So the first half: I hope it was obvious that Esme completely missed out on an entire conversation between Edward and Carlisle between Ashland and Mackinaw City, in which Carlisle spent the whole time fretting over whether the family would make it to Halifax in the car or not. I don't think international road trips would have been something that was recommended in the 20s, because the roads probably weren't that good yet. Anyway, so Edward got cranky because Carlisle kept berating himself about agreeing to the __road trip, which Edward thought would be a splendid idea because he loves the car. (Yes, he would have loved running too - and probably loved it more - but the car would have still been somewhat of a novelty then, and he wouldn't have done such a big drive before). Anyway, that was their little disagreement. Oh, and the final line of Esme's part doesn't mean that Edward isn't happy for the next fifteen years, just clarifying. It means something else. :)_

_Then, the house! More of that in the next chapter, which will be from Esme's point of view so of course she'll tell us more. Then we'll also tackle a very common little problem that Esme and Carlisle always face, but haven't yet faced it in this story, so that covers our next two chapters. Then the two chapters after that will find Esme in a very tricky and vampire like place one day in the forest, the two chapters after that find Esme doing things she really doesn't want to do, thanks to Edward convincing Carlisle it's a great idea, then we have two chapters that shake the family up a little more by a little visit from a particular person in someone's past. Then we're going to mend up all of the problems and have a little fluff and ... then IT'S DONE. So that leaves us with... 10 chapters and an Epilogue. Wow!_

_Thank you all so much for your lovely reviews, and constant following - it's really appreciated. This is such a great way for me to practise my writing, and try new things, and get feedback, so I'm really thankful to you all - even those of you who don't review, just having readers is feedback in itself. So thank you all! Hope you're all well! I have finals for the next two weeks, so you might or might not hear from me for a while._

_Much love x_

_Oh, and forgive my French above if it was wrong!_


	52. The Doctor's Wife

_Chapter Fifty-Two: The Doctor's Wife_

_Halifax, Nova Scotia, January 1922_

_Esme_

There is a definite beauty, and certain regality about Georgian homes. The curves and the arches, the decorative moulding on the cornices, the symmetry, and the windows. Oh! The windows – the glorious, beautiful, twelve pane windows. They were the first things I got to and cleaned. When the car first pulled up in the overgrown grass in front of the house, I thought the four front windows were the most splendid I'd ever see, but through the arch at the end of the hall, the grand room had windows that were better. There were four in total, two – evenly spaced – on the back wall, and two – evenly spaced – on the right wall, either side of the white fireplace. The room was empty aside from a beautiful carpet I had purchased in the city, but I did plan to fill it, of course, I just wasn't ready yet. I spent a few days after we moved not touching anything in the house; I merely walked around and watched out the windows. The boys thought I was acting strange, they thought I'd snapped or something of the sort, as they watched with concerned expressions from the doorway, but I had my reasons. I wanted to see how the light flowed through the windows and into the rooms; I wanted to see how it filled the house, and how the house responded to it.

After a few days I started to get a feel for how the house responded in winter, and I came up with a fair idea as to how it would respond during the rest of the year, so that is when I began to clean. I wiped down all the walls with damp cloths, ordered paints to freshen it up, I scrubbed the plastered dental work with a horse hair toothbrush, I cleaned, sanded, and revarnished the wooden floors, I scrubbed the grime off the windows, I fixed doorhandles, and imagined uses for empty rooms. The boys worked hard, wiring the house, getting it connected to the town grid, and plumbing in the bathrooms I decided to convert. They took me shopping in town for some furniture, curtains, carpets, and anything I wanted, not to mention everything that I could imagine. The people walking down the streets gaped and stared at us, whispering to their companions, "Look! That's the new doctor! And that must be the doctor's wife."

I was universally known around Halifax, simply as 'The Doctor's Wife,' but I had no complaints.

In the few weeks that we had lived in our new house, we brought monumental change to the desolate old building, and we made it beautiful once again.

I loved our house so much that my favourite pastime was now to walk around it, taking in everything again, and again, and again, picturing it all once it was finished. Through the front doorway, and straight to the right, the stairs were now shining with their deep varnish, and complete lack of dust, just like the thin banister to the side. Two steps up, they began to turn to the left, and continued with the incline until the next floor emerged to the right. The platform that one would see first, was square, with two nice windows, and it branched off to the left into a hallway that led around to the bedrooms. Like the rest of the house, I'd sanded the wooden floors and coated them with varnish, so the deep and rich walnut gleamed. I had plans for a carpet, and armchairs to occupy the small room. The view of the long grass and driveway would be the perfect spot for me to sit and read, or paint, or daydream in the long hours when Carlisle was at work and I wanted to keep an eye out for his return. The hallway that branched off this room first led to the master, which had a small room adjoined that Carlisle insisted I use as a dressing room. Although I thought it a waste of space to dedicate an entire room to garments, he believed it to be a great idea, and so I relented and did it. Next there was the upstairs bathroom, Carlisle and Edward would get to plumbing that when they'd finished plumbing downstairs. For now, it merely held a solitary bath that was waiting to be hooked up. Right beside this bathroom was the final bedroom – Edward's. He fiercely insisted that he did not want a bed in his room, for he had no purpose for it, so I let him choose how to furnish his room (with my _guidance_ of course). He was taking his role very seriously, and very slowly. I chuckled to myself remembering the day we three went furniture shopping, and momentarily lost Edward, for he'd left that particular store and gone to the music shop.

I blew the mess I was making out the open window, and went back to my furious scrubbing. On this particular day, down the hallway and in the master, bent over the windowsill, one would find me with sandpaper in hand, trying my darndest to make the wood of the sill nice and silky smooth. Although the window was open, the wind was null, so thankfully the wood dust I was creating was not blowing into our lovely bedroom. Although I loved every room in our house, and I was sure that this would occur in all houses we lived in, I felt that, no matter what house, the room I shared with Carlisle would always be one of my favourites.

This house – this room – was no exception. It was large, with a small fireplace, and walls I had painted sky blue. Carlisle knew how much I loved our old bed in Ashland, so he had surprised me a few days after we arrived with a new, and more beautiful bed for us to share. It was a white four-poster with the kind of wispy canopy that I loved, it was simple and understated, unlike the bed that sat in the guest room downstairs, with the kind of canopy that would make a Queen green with envy.

The floorboards were the same rich, beautiful wood, but a white carpet occupied most of the floor, because I was partial to rugs in bedrooms. Just like the simple, and elegant four-poster bed, our bedroom as a whole was not outlandish, or showy in any way, but it suited us perfectly.

Soon the wood beneath my fingers was smooth and ready to be varnished, so I wiped the dust off my fingers with an old rag, and straightened up. I smiled at the memories that started to flood through my mind as my eyes scanned through the room. Of course, mere weeks were not long enough to make a great deal of memories, but we had waisted no time in starting.

Wanting to tour the house once more, I very nearly skipped out of the room, down the hallway, to the staircase, and down onto the ground floor. The white light from the snowy day flooded through the window by the door, and lit up the main hallway.

The walls were once again white like they would have been in the house's heyday, and were now adorned with some of my favourite paintings that Carlisle had collected over the years. I stopped to admire each and every one as I walked down the hallway, smiling as I contemplated what Carlisle would have thought when they each caught his eye. The first door I came to was on the right wall, at the end of the stairs, and I called the room it opened up into 'The Front Room.' It was now home to Edward's piano, and I knew he adored the way that the winter light, so bright from the white clouds in the sky, streamed in and onto it.

The next door after that, which had small windows, and darker floors than the rest of the house, was in the process of being transformed into our main bathroom, so the floor was covered in abandoned plumbing gear, work would resume when they boys both arrived home. I rather surprised myself with the intrigue at which I watched them plan and work, so much so that they'd begun to teach me how they put the pipes in, and how they prevented it from leaking, and intricate details of that sort.

A large archway into the grand room was at the end of the hallway where it turned left. The light flooded into the empty room in a much more magnificent way than it spilled onto Edward's piano, and I was always filled with the urge to waltz into the middle and spin around with my arms outstretched in utter glee because of how beautiful our new home was. To the left, there was a small hole in the wall, where the boys and I had decided to put a doorway into the breakfast room that I'd reasoned would serve more purpose as a small library. We were also in the process of closing the doorway that led into that room from the kitchen.

When I left the grand room, I turned right in the hall, following it round, and walked passed the open door to the outdated kitchen I was still contemplating how to fix. Directly opposite the door to the kitchen was the door to the dining room, where an old oak table sat on it's lonesome, beside a worse for wear fireplace. The owners who abandoned the beautiful home had left the table behind, and I'd found it's complementary seats scattered throughout the dwelling in the most peculiar of places. They were broken and chipped and all but destroyed but I was committed to restoring them to their former glory – Carlisle had even brought me books on how. The next door along the wall in the hall was on the left, and opened to a bedroom designed for guests. Although I knew we'd never use it as such, I was in the process of decorating it anyway, especially with the grand bed I had found in Halifax, and Carlisle insisted that we buy it even though we'd all ready had one for our room, and Edward insistently said he'd rather not have one. So the bed, designed to be unused, sat in the middle of the downstairs bedroom.

At the end of the hall was a room nearly as large as the grand room, which I had decided we'd use as Carlisle's study. He was overjoyed at this, excited like a little boy, for finally he'd have enough room to house _all_ of his books. He wouldn't have to select which ones to store in different locations; he'd have them all at arms reach. Sourcing enough bookshelves was an interesting predicament, but one that I left to him. I did however, make one request, I asked to help him shelve them all. He was a little befuddled, trying to discern my motives at first, but he agreed readily enough, and so many of our afternoons saw us covered in dust, pulling books from boxes and placing them methodically away. He seemed not to mind being covered in dust, whereas I couldn't stand it, but it was his room, so I did not say a word. I'm not convinced he ever figured out exactly why it was that I wanted to help him, but my reasons were simple – I wanted to know how he sorted his books. The sorting of a library says a great deal about a book lover, whose natural habitat is a library, and I wanted so desperately to be in on the secret.

I'm convinced I know the sorting better than Edward now - which I'm not ashamed to admit, I am thoroughly proud of.

As I continued down the hall, I was once again struck by the beauty of the house, but not for the rooms I had just been in. No, there was something more that I knew for certain I treasured the very most.

Behind the kitchen, and the soon to be library, opposite the unused guestroom, and sharing a wall with the study, was the singular most beautiful thing in the house.

I reached the end of the hallway, and rested my hands on the golden plated doorknobs of the double doors made of glass. I could not help the smile that spread across my face when I peered through the panes and into the conservatory. When we first arrived I had pulled out all of the weeds, so there was just dirt and stone paths, but Carlisle had made a habit of bringing home new plants everyday after work. He brought me countless types of ferns, roses, ornamental grasses, perennials, vines, and various types of shade bushes. Where he managed to get all of these things in the dead of winter? I'd no idea. The garden was young, but it was bursting with life, which looked even more beautiful against the stark white canvas of the outside snow.

Carlisle had even begun digging me a hole that he would make into a pond, and on one or two occasions I'd heard him murmuring about a small waterfall. I smiled at the thought; he nearly loved this renovating as much as I, although I did have a sneaking suspicion that he merely loved that this was making me happy.

We'd found a wooden outdoor seat on one of our trips into town; it was an unusual seat, almost as though the creator couldn't decide whether they wanted a park bench or an outdoor chaise lounge, so they decided to make both in one. It was my favourite place to sit and enjoy the silence of the house. We were far enough out of town that the hustle and bustle of the busy area didn't reach our ears and Edward only had mine and Carlisle's minds to listen to, (although he often wondered if it would be better to have the hustle and bustle to drown out our thoughts), our distance from the city also meant that we were closer to the forests. As usual, the most abundant animal for hunting was deer, but sometimes we would swim across to McNabs Island to hunt coyote. When we wanted better game we went for a longer run. There was a large forest south of Halifax, bordering Queens and Annapolis counties where a large number of deer, coyotes, and moose lived near the Kejimkujik Lake, and black bears hid in the thick vegetation. Our hunting adventures as of late had been interesting to say the least. Nearly a week before, I had been running toward Kejimkujik Lake at full speed when Edward effortlessly overtook me. He laughed with glee as he flew between the trees, and then, to top it all off, I looked to my side and there was Carlisle keeping up with me like it was no trouble at all! He explained to me later that he thought my newborn year was waning. Although, it hadn't been a year since I was changed, he said that the time frame was to be applied loosely, and was different for everyone. As he and Edward had begun to discuss variables that could be factored in to account for my nine month long newborn year, I drifted off to scrub some more cornices.

I noticed over the following days that both Edward and Carlisle seemed to hear things a fraction of a millisecond before me, and my eyesight seemed to be just as good as the both of theirs – but not better. I was suddenly the slowest of the family, but for some reason, there was not a surge of irrational uncontrollable passionate emotion that came with that knowledge, so I rejoiced. I was also, no longer stronger than Carlisle. He smiled and laughed a little when I pointed this out, and opened his arms for me to take a seat on his lap,_ "I must admit, I have noticed your strength fading for a short while now, our strength has been on par recently," he said, "But I'd say as of today, we have passed equilibrium, my dear. Most of your human blood is gone." _

Should I have been afraid of this? That I was suddenly weaker than he? Perhaps with a past like mine I should have been… but I was not.

I shifted in my seat as darkness began to engulf the white scenery outside the glasshouse. I didn't need the aid of any light to see, but some human part of me wanted it there. So I stood from the wooden chaise, and added a flame to the lantern that sat upon it's ornate, wrought iron stand beside my chair. The flickering orange flame was a lovely addition to the already lovely night, it added colour to an otherwise black and white canvas. I sighed as I sat back down and smiled to myself, as I heard tyres on the grassy driveway. The boys had constructed a somewhat haphazard shed near the house, which they planned on turning into a nicer garage, but they weren'y one hundred percent sure how to. It was 'the boy's project' but I knew it was only a short matter of time before my assistance was required. It was an unusual, yet warming sensation to be such an integral, and needed part of a family.

The car sped down the driveway, and came to a stop near the shed, I listened as Carlisle hopped out and trudged over to open the doors. Something about his sluggish footsteps seemed off, they were slow and solemn. I wondered if he'd had a bad day, I wondered if he'd lost a lot of patients. I considered getting up and meeting him at the door, but decided against it when I recalled just how happy it always made him to find me in the 'room with the glass roof, where the stars would shine in my eyes,' he'd say.

I waited with nerves swimming in my stomach as I listened to him hop back in the car and park it in the shed. He closed the doors and sprinted to the house. He didn't call out when he opened the front door; instead, he silently flicked off the outdoor light, and kicked his boots off. This was most unusual.

"I'm in the conservatory!" I called out as pleasantly as I could manage while plagued with worry for him.

He didn't reply, but he slowly trudged down the hallway toward my favourite room. I regretted not meeting him at the door almost immediately after I made the decision not to, and even more so when he appeared behind the glass doors. His perfectly sculpted face was arranged in a distraught expression, the corners of his full lips were slightly downturned, his eyes were downcast, and had he been human, I was certain silent tears would have been streaming down his face. His shoulders were slumped, and he didn't meet my eyes as he opened the doors. He moved slowly, and there was an almost ashamed edge to his movements. A flicker of annoyance panged somewhere inside of me as I wished he'd stop blaming himself so harshly for every wrong turn in a strangers life as though he could have stopped it, but the annoyance was only small, for his unparalleled compassion was a reason that I adored him so.

He plodded over to where I was sitting, and I straightened up, before he slumped down on his knees on the ground. His hands fell on the seat beneath me, and I immediately covered them with my own.

"Carlisle?" I murmured, in my softest, most loving tone, "Love?"

His head whipped up, and his heartbroken eyes pierced mine. I could feel my heart fracturing into millions of tiny little pieces at the agony in his dark orbs, so I reached up to cradle his cheek.

He let out a deep breath, and closed his eyes, allowing himself to bask in my comfort for just a moment before his lids flashed open and he pulled away. My hand fell back to his.

"Carlisle?" I wondered again, wishing he would speak as my mind created thousands of reasons for his suffering – each far worse than the last.

He gazed in my eyes with raw anguish; his face was twisted and contorted with pain, making my heart ache. "I'm so sorry," he whispered in a broken voice, before his head fell on the wood beneath me, "I'm so sorry for what I've done. Please, I never meant to hurt you."

* * *

_A.N. Hello! Happy Thanksgiving to all of you who celebrate... and all of you who don't! Thank you all for reading, reviewing, following, and favouriting. I really am so thankful for all of you, this story would not be here without you all!_

_I know this was a bit f a short chapter, and was mostly Esme and her house, but it would have bee too rushed had this and the next been combined together, so it's kind of like a two-parter (as will some of the following chapters be)  
That was a bit of a sad ending wasn't it? I'm eager to hear what you think happened during Carlisle's day for such a thing to come out of his mouth! (And don't worry, the next chapter will be Carlisle's point of view of the events that led up to this!)_

_Now, I am happy to say that my finals are finished for the year! But I'm still keeping busy over summer with school and what not, so updates won't be AS frequent as I would like (I was hoping to get this story done before 2016!) but I'll not say it's impossible - it might still happen yet! These past few days have been blistering hot, the sea has turned a thousand shades of turquoise and I can barely bare to pull myself away from the cool water and blistering sand long enough to type words on the computer, so it's been a little hard for me to remember that the Cullen's are in the middle of winter!_

_I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, and hopefully the next will be up soon! _

_Much love x_


	53. The Secrets of Her Light

_Chapter Fifty-Three: The Secrets of Her Light_

_Halifax, Nova Scotia, January 1922_

_Carlisle_

She had once again blown my mind, turning a derelict building into a house filled with love – a home. It wasn't even finished, yet it was so filled with the quiet and content happiness that radiated off of her, the feeling seeped and ebbed out of the cracks in the bricks, the holes in the roof, the gap beneath the door, and flowed freely out of every open window. It was brimming, it was overflowing, and we three had never before experienced such full and happy lives. Her mood swings were very nearly a thing of the past, her strength had waned, and Edward was overjoyed that she could no longer out-run him in the deep forest. Things seemed as though they were settling down perfectly, slotting directly into every place that the good Lord had intended them to be.

Quiet, happy moments filled my mind as I wandered down empty corridors of the hospital during the short moments before my shift began. Esme and I had enjoyed a lazy morning in a sea of white cotton sheets while Edward was out hunting in the forests nearby. The white light from the winter snow filtered through the hospital windows in a fashion that was not nearly as beautiful as the sunrise that had made my wife's hair shine dark gold. She laid across my chest with her wayward curls sprawling out in every direction, drawing invisible masterpieces upon my skin with her delicate little fingers, smiling contentedly to herself. I was sorely tempted to run back to her, where she would be in our home working hard to make her dreams come true, and pull her away from something she loved, just to give her something she loved even more. I could have stayed in that moment for the rest of eternity and never needed anything more.

But the occasional coughing fit of an ill patient two floors up, the quiet chattering of a few nurses, and the constant sound of heartbeats reminded me of another purpose I had on this Earth – to heal. Although my wife could easily convince me that I should spend eternity with her in my arms if she so desired, she instead, constantly reminded me of my second love, and encouraged me to continue on with the job I loved. I smiled involuntarily at that thought, every day she somehow made me love her more than the last.

In my office, I donned my coat and readied myself for my first visit to the emergency room. There had been no great emergencies in my absence from the hospital, only a few minor cuts, abrasions and a possible bought of the flu – although this strain had nothing on that which claimed both of Edward's parents, and incidentally caused Edward to become part of the family.

As I made my way down to the emergency room, I wished a few colleagues a good morning, and threw a few good natured smiles towards the nurses, who had kept any affections they might have held for me a secret after finding out that I had a wife at home, then I got to work.

My first patient of the day was a young man who had managed to get in the way of his father's Model T, and had his foot run over. It seemed, from both the men's stories, and my examination, the wheel had only crushed his phalanges but he was writhing in pain, and covered in sweat. Unfortunately there was no magical potion that would cause the fractures to disappear, so I gave him some morphine, and plastered his foot with plaster of Paris. It was an impractical solution, but the only one I had.

I moved on to the woman suffering from a bought of the common cold she mistakenly thought was influenza. The hardest part of treating her was getting her to stop shouting that the Spanish flu was back in her thick Italian accent. One of the older, more impatient nurses made a point of telling her that if she did in fact have the Spanish flu she wouldn't be able to be quite as vocal as she was being. I had to fight gallantly against a smile when I heard that, any medical practitioner who had lived through the pandemic only a few short years before could tell the flu from a common cold. The second hardest part of treating this patient was to get her to stop asking for liquid belladonna. When that request slipped out of her mouth I began to question if her symptoms were actually real. Paying closer attention to her coughs and sneezes, I could tell that they were, but they were also grossly exaggerated. I had half a mind to point out that if I were going to give her belladonna, it would be in capsule form, not liquid form, and to also inform her that dropping liquid atropine into her eyes like I suspected she desired to, as her ancestors would have during the renaissance, was a horrendous idea and would cause serious consequences for her vision in the years to come. I could tell by the way that her husband's jaw tightened when she uttered her request that he also knew her motives, and did not approve – he had probably stopped her from buying belladonna over the counter, I respected him for that.

I left her with a damp cloth upon her forehead and a cup of soothing tea, as she yelled out complaints about neglect.

My next few patients required stiches, and then there was a broken arm, a broken leg, and a stubbed toe of a hysterical two year old with darling blonde curls and big blue doe eyes. I took special care to fix his sore toe and even snuck him a few pieces of candy, which earned me a giant, watery smile.

The morning passed quickly, with many minor incidents that didn't allow me much time to linger on the memories of my morning. But – as I suspect it would remain that way forever – every broken limb I was presented with reminded me of a young, and beautiful farm girl who had fallen from a tree and was waiting for me at home. In my morning break, I was tempted to use the phone in my office to call home just to see what she was doing, but I didn't want to disrupt her. I imagined her on the roof, making sure all of the vines had been pulled out from between the slate, or waist deep in the long grass out the front, gazing at the houses exterior, wondering what to do next. I allowed myself a little laugh at that mental picture as I imagined her smiling at the light that sat above the door. She was insistent, completely insistent, that we have a light right by the front door – for the life of me, I couldn't discern why, but it was also something I could never in a million years deny her. She was unbelievably proud of that light.

Toward the end of my morning break, when I was making my way back to the emergency room, I was stopped by a familiar booming voice calling out my fake name, and then breaking my world into a million little pieces of sheer anguish and heartbreak, fracturing my euphoria with casual words meaning no harm at all, but causing the most pain I had ever felt.

"Doctor Carlyle!" The voice that belonged to the head of staff, Doctor Denton, boomed. I turned around at the loud summons, to be greeted by a middle-aged man with a receding hairline and an expanding waistline, hobbling down the clinical hallway toward me. He grinned widely as he jostled from side to side with his excessively long strides.

"Doctor Denton," I replied with a smile, "It's good to see you."

"Yes!" He beamed, his voice was faint, he was slightly short of breath, "It's good to see you too! You're just the man I was looking for."

"Ah?" I replied pleasantly, "And what can I do for you?"

He threw his head back as he chuckled, his belly moving up and down with the contractions of his diaphragm, "Answer me some questions, old chap. How's the morning been?"

"Very good, only a few minor injuries to attend to, but there has been a steady flow. I've just finished my morning break."

"Good. I'm glad we're keeping you occupied. Although I do still believe that your skills would be better utilised in a big city. Speaking of big cities, am I right in assuming that one of the aspects of this hospital that drew you to us, was the possibility of travel?"

I nodded, "That is correct."

"Well, I'm in the process of accepting applicants for that position, I'm correct in assuming I shall receive yours soon?" He wondered.

I took this question as a good sign, "Yes, sir."

He nodded to himself with satisfaction, his hands resting at his hips, "Good, good. I've been watching everyone, and I must say Carlyle, you're a brilliant doctor, and an even better surgeon, but that's not what surprised me most about you. Usually when you get a man like that, he's lacking such skills in the people department, got no good bedside manner, I'm sure you've seen that before?" I nodded, and he did too, "Yes, and to be quite frank, I did believe that would be you also. It's safe to say I've been most pleasantly surprised; perhaps my favourite thing about you is your way with the patients. I saw you with that young boy today, he went from completely hysterical to deliriously happy in a few split seconds. That's why I think you'd be a nice fit for this position, a good all round doctor with a manner such as yours would do wonders for our reputation. How would you like, as a trial run, to attend a conference down in New York City sometime in March? Of course you're welcome to take both your wife and her brother, everything would be arranged for you, the conference lasts four days."

I nodded eagerly, "Of course I'll have to discuss it with my family, but I'm very interested."

Doctor Denton laughed again, "Such the diplomat young Carlyle! You're too good to that young wife of yours! How is she anyhow? She's not come in to see you; I've only met her on the street weeks ago! Is she quite well?"

I smile slightly, and lied smoothly, "Regrettably, she's been quite ill as of late."

He let out a conspiratorial laugh, and grinned at me, much to my surprise. He leaned in closer and murmured quietly with eyebrows raised; "Ill, meaning that she's come down with something, or ill, meaning there's a little new Carlyle on the way?"

I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised by his question. I should have known it was coming sooner or later. It should have occurred to me that this is what people would think, but perhaps it was because I had lived nearly three hundred years knowing I would never have a child of my own, it never occurred to me to think of it when I married Esme, but as the words rolled off of his tongue something in my mind clicked, and I saw the young boy I had treated just that morning, with hair a shade nearly identical to mine in curls as beautiful as Esme's, and eyes the blue that mine once were, round and doe like just as my wife's were, and I realised that had I been human, had Esme been human… Our future would look a little like him.

I cleared my throat; Denton was still waiting for a reply. "Uh, no," I shook my head, "She is ill of health, sir. She has a chronic condition. She will never be in full health."

His thick eyebrows shot up in surprise, as he straightened up, "Oh," slowly his expression deflated, "Well I'm sorry to hear that young Collin. I hope she gets better in the very near future."

I nodded, but as fractures appeared in the world around me, I couldn't fashion a reply.

He clapped me on the back once, and wished me a good day before departing with a solemn look upon his face.

I was somewhat withdrawn for the rest of the day, but acutely aware of the excessive amounts of children that I treated in the emergency room. For some strange reason, I could nearly see a piece of either Esme or myself in each one of them, and the thought of what our child would have looked like had it ever been possible for us to conceive, was sewn onto my shadow; following me everywhere I went.

At two o'clock in the afternoon, a family was brought in with severe burns after an automobile accident. I was suddenly taken back to Ashland to another burns case I had, and the vision of a young girl with blonde ringlets, and large brown eyes lying on my table, looking like she was sleeping peacefully, when in all reality she would never wake up. Her death had haunted me more than the other three boys that day and I couldn't quite pin point why back then, but I could now. In all reality, by balance of probabilities and the law of Mendelian genetics, a child of Esme's and mine would have large brown eyes, and a fair chance of having fair hair.

I dressed every wound for the rest of the day wondering if it had occurred to Esme that we would never have children, wondering if it hurt her, wondering why she never mentioned it, and realising that it was probably too painful for her to verbalise, and Edward would never say anything to me because it was too much of an invasion of her privacy.

I found myself choking back sobs every time I thought of how she must feel, being sentenced to an eternity of sterility when she already knew the feeling of being a mother. My chest felt empty, as though someone had drained every millilitre of happiness from it, and replaced it with liquid that was zero Kelvin even though it was impossible for matter to exist as a liquid in that temperature. But I wasn't one for believing in impossibilities anymore.

To make it worse I realised that it would have plagued her thoughts a thousand times, and yet it hadn't once crossed my mind. Had I really been that dense? The awful truth was strikingly clear to me that indeed I had. She would have pictured those children before, she would have imagined reading bedtime stories, laughing at snow fights, watching lovingly from bedroom doorways, teeth falling out, tears from stubbed toes… she would have imagined it all… and I hadn't. Until then. Until I couldn't get the picture out of my head, of going home after a long day of work to see a little child waiting for me with sheer excitement. I had to clench my teeth every time a thought like that entered into my head to stop the tearless sobs that threatened to rattle my chest. Waves of guilt crashed over my body periodically as it occurred to me I'd never fully empathised with the pain she would have felt before jumping off that cliff, but hadn't I been so consumed with ferocious self-hate that I too threw myself from a height so high it would have killed a human? Never had I felt sadness so potent as that self-hate, yet it must have been how she felt, so desolate, so empty, so hopeless. _Why had this not occurred to me before?_ So anger came with the sadness, and I tossed between being ripped apart by grief, and burned to pieces by hatred.

There was guilt in the mix also, guilt at the greed I was feeling. It was not my right to have children; it was not my right to crave them as strongly as I did, I had no right to covet goodness when I was the prime example of evil. So the guilt, the grief and the anger swam together in my venom-filled veins.

Yet nothing affected me more than the single realisation that it was _I_ who took that away from her. It was _my_ fault. _Me_, the man who was supposed to give her everything she had ever wanted, had taken away the one thing she wanted most.

So by the end of the day, which had turned into a marathon of misery, I had never felt more deflated, or more heartbroken than I did right then. I trudged out of the hospital and collapsed in the car. For the first time since Esme had arrived, I completely dreaded returning to her. As cowardly as it was, I didn't want to face her with the knowledge of the misery I had condemned her to, but I also knew I could not get it through it without her. Like humans, vampires are inherently selfish creatures.

I turned the key in the ignition and sped home, pulling over a few times on the side of the road when the pain became too much and I had to gather myself together again, to reign in my scattered thoughts, but it was like trying to completely fix a ligament torn in two – hopeless. I allowed myself a few dry sobs here and there, but if I was going to manage an apology, if I was going to talk this through with Esme, I couldn't be the one breaking down in tearless sobs.

As I turned onto the driveway and sped through the long grass, my spirits lifted ever so slightly at the sight of the light above the front door, which had become to be some kind of symbol to me – that she was home, and she was waiting. But it couldn't fix the fissure; nothing can ever truly heal tissue that is avascular.

I let the car idle by the makeshift garage as I opened the wooden doors, my shoulders were slumped as I walked, and pain ate away at all of my energy in my body that could feel no lethargy.

Once the car was parked, dread once again filled me from head to toe, but I couldn't wait any longer to see her, so I sprinted across the snow covered yard and was inside the house within a fraction of a second. I couldn't call out a single hello without choking on the lump that sat in my throat, so I flicked off the outside light, and kicked off my boots before she called out "I'm in the conservatory!" in her sweet and buttery voice.

I made my way to her favourite room but when I reached it, I couldn't even meet her eye. I tried to swallow the lump but with every thought that crossed my mind it thickened and grew more pronounced. I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to speak again. I slowly wandered over to her spot on the bench, where she lay in the light of the lamp; her golden eyes were swimming with worry, which made the pain so much worse. Without meeting her eyes I dropped to the floor by her seat, and my hands flopped onto the wood. Without hesitation her soft skin covered mine, and I very nearly began to sob.

"Carlisle?" She wondered, in a voice so beautiful and saturated with care, "Love?"

My head involuntarily rose so I could look in her eyes, because the pain of looking away was too unbearable. Her expression was struck with worry; her eyes were wide and empathetic. She reached up to place her soft hand on my cheek, and my eyes fell closed while I basked in her comfort, but I had to pull away because I knew I didn't deserve it.

"Carlisle?" She murmured again, her voice laced with worry.

My eyes met hers and I found my voice, but it was just a broken whimper, "I'm so sorry," I managed, "I'm so sorry, I never meant to hurt you."

Her brow furrowed, and she moved to get up, but I shook my head, I didn't deserve her comfort. I should have known she would give it anyway.

She lifted both of her hands to cradle my cheeks, and forced me to look at her, "Carlisle," she whispered, "What's wrong? What's happened? You're scaring me."

I gritted my teeth, and closed my eyes, "I… I just…"

The was a pause for a moment, as her gentle fingers stroked from my temple to my jaw, the action was soothing and had remarkable effects on the lump in my throat, but made my heart throb with the pain inside of it.

I sighed, and opened my eyes to gaze into hers, then I recounted the tale of what Doctor Denton had said, and how it had never occurred to me the pain she must be in, the desire she must feel, and the desire that I hadn't expected to feel.

"I noticed every single child after that, and all I could think about what _what if?_ What if we could? And I wanted that. I wanted that so dearly, Esme. I wasn't prepared to feel that way, but I knew you must have always felt that way – even stronger, and to think that it is my fault you will forever be like this. That we can never… There's that haunting realisation, 'If we were human, if we were human,' there is an infinite world of things we could have, but we're not, so we can't, and _I_ took that away from you."

To my complete and utter surprise, a small smile graced her lips as her solemn eyes lovingly gazed into mine.

"Carlisle, sweet, sweet Carlisle, you have to know that it never occurred to me to passionately desire a child of my own until it was happening, and there's not a day that goes by that I don't think of him, that I don't think of what could have been. I will always have that child-size hole in my heart, but please understand, never before has my heart been so _full_. I know you remember, but let me remind you, when I first met you, in the hospital, I told you that I had never once envied any character in any book, because my life had infinite possibilities. I said that my life could be everything I ever wanted, or more than I had ever dreamed." She brushed my hair out of my eyes, and smiled, "_This_ is more than I ever dreamed. Children, or no children, I have you, and I am _so happy_. If we were human, we'd both be dead, and I would have never known how good life could be, because I never would have met you."

Listening to the absolute sincerity of her voice, and staring into the adoration of her eyes I began to wonder why I dreaded coming home to her. Had I wanted to cling to my pain and guilt? Perhaps I had. But now, in the presence of her love I could feel the guilt and anger draining from me. From the apex to the base, I could feel my heart thawing, I could feel the ice melting, the dread receding – the love slowly winning. The sadness and longing was still there inside, and made worse very time I realised that it would never go away, especially not for her.

She could see her words were having the desire effect, so her smile grew, "_You_ are all I need," she whispered, as if it were a grand secret, "Greed is a flaw of our species, so I daresay there will be many-a-thing I _want_, but I will never _need_ anything as I need _you_."

I sighed, and smiled, leaning into her delicate hand, allowing myself to accept the comfort that she was always willing to give. We sat there in the quiet for a while, leaving each other to our own thoughts, but I hated to think of where her mind had drifted off to because of the subject I brought up.

I looked up to her, and her sad eyes met mine, "Do you want to talk about it some more?" I wondered.

She smiled, "Perhaps soon, right now, I'd like to adjust our seating arrangement."

I managed a smile before standing up, and she did too. There was something in the way that her golden eyes shined with a longing light, which told me I had to press my lips to hers immediately. The kiss was sweet – comforting. She melted into me in my favourite way, then when the kiss ended, she burrowed her face into my chest, so I wrapped my arms around her and held her tight for an immeasurable amount of time.

When we pulled away, I smiled a small smile, "You are the light of my life."

She grinned, and whispered, "As I plan to forever be, just as I will forever insist to have a light above the door that shall never be turned off until you're safely back home to me."

Realisation hit me at her loving gesture, and I quickly scooped her up into my arms, "I love you." I murmured into her hair as I carried her out of the conservatory, down the hall, up the stairs and to our room, where we lay there relishing in the quiet night, holding on to each other for dear life, each picturing all the things we'd never have, but basking in that which we did. And when Edward arrived home late that night he uttered not a word about our less than ideal state – tangled beneath the sheets her with only a chemise, me in barely anything. There was not one sigh, not one grumble, not one snarky remark, just a semi-familiar, beautifully unfinished composition from the piano below.

* * *

_A.N. Hello! Thanks once again for all your reviews and for continuing reading. I'm glad you are all still enjoying the story. _

_Just a few things I wanted to say: __I realise I may have briefly touched on the children subject in the past but I do believe that was Esme missing her son, not Carlisle contemplating what a child of his and Esme's would be like, and because Esme is such a maternal person, I agree with many people that Carlisle would struggle with knowing he couldn't give children to her (of course he does in one way or another later on - and I didn't forget they have Edward)._

_Also, medicine in the 1920s was still relatively archaic, and I'll be the first to admit that I know next to nothing about it, so I apologise if there are any inaccuracies in Carlisle's treatments of his patients. I had to constantly remind myself while writing this that penicillin (and consequently any of it's derivatives) were _not _around back then. I've never quite utilised the backspace button as much as I did while Carlisle was at the hospital. And f__or those of you who aren't familiar with the term 'Kelvin' when used to discuss temperature, 0 K is -273.65 C, or -459.67 F, and is also known as 'absolute zero'._

_Hope you enjoyed... Next up is a very vampire-y chapter! (I know, that's totally not a word :P )_


	54. To Hunt, or Be Hunted

_Chapter Fifty-Four: To Hunt, or Be Hunted_

_Halifax, Nova Scotia, February 1922_

_Carlisle_

I didn't need to imagine her with a red nose and rosy cheeks as she swung around a tree trunk, keeping one arm firmly around it like it was her dance partner, because her unblemished, unblushing, bloodless face was perfect to me. Just like her laughter that came from her chest in delighted peels of ringing bells and popping bubbles.

I had a few days off from work, so we three decided to run down to the forests surrounding Kejimkujik Lake to see what animals would be out and about in the bitter winter cold. Edward had been lucky enough to come by a bear on our first day, but Esme and I had only caught deer so far.

I knew for a fact she had never liked to talk about hunting, and from Edward I could discern that she did not like to think about it either, but just the other day she found me in the study with a shy look upon her face and somber eyes.

_She knocked hesitantly on the slightly ajar door, which was an uncommon gesture. I looked up from my spot kneeling on the floor by a bookshelf, and smiled in welcome. She slipped through the crack before looking down at her jittery, stocking clad toes._

"_What is it, love?" I wondered with slight worry in my voice._

_She cautiously raised her head so her eyes slowly met mine, and allowed herself a timid smile, "I just wanted to talk to you about something?"_

"_Of course," I smiled warmly, sliding the book I'd been reading back in it's designated place, then moving to sit on the loveseat she'd chosen for the room, and signalled for her to join me. _

"_What is on your mind, love?" I wondered when she took her place._

"_It's about…" she paused, playing with her fingers in her lap, which I soon covered with my own hand, "Vampirism," she whispered._

_I had to smile at her hesitance to talk about the matter, whether it be in fear that some passer by would hear (impossible!) or because the concept still made her slightly uncomfortable, even though it had nearly been a year. _

_I nodded, as a peculiar dilemma presented it to myself – should I address her as I would a professional helping a patient, the way had always tried to address such matters before, or as a husband, helping his wife?_

_"Of course I shall try to answer my very best." I replied in a tone that sounded far too formal for her, and she picked up on it right away._

_Her face broke into a wide grin, "I'm asking you as my husband, my dearest friend, not as the doctor I met all those years ago, I promise, it's nothing medical."_

_I let out a laugh, and relaxed back into the seat pulling her with me, "In that case, my love, I'm all yours."_

_She paused for a short moment, playing with my fingers, pursing her lips before finding the words and murmuring, "It's my memory - I'm struggling… I'm struggling to recall some things."_

_I raised my eyebrows, of course expecting this, but wondering exactly what she was forgetting, "Such as?"_

_She shook her head and shrugged a little, "The colour of my mother's eyes, the farm in winter, the trees that grew there, the food we'd harvest, the taste of it – especially the taste of it. I don't recall what I liked, and what I didn't like, or why. There are things I still do remember, you, of course, my son, even Charles, but little things, little things are leaving and it's so very strange."_

_I nodded, and placed a kiss on her hair, "I know what you mean love, and unfortunately there's nothing we can do to bring them back. Those things you do want to remember, you must keep thinking about them."_

_She nodded knowingly, and swallowed hard, "It's only that, I've been thinking a lot lately, about being a vampire and what that entails… and I always used to think that when I'm not hunting I shouldn't enjoy the idea of it… but the more memories of being human that I lose, the more I find myself having very few issues with the enjoyable side of killing animals… and I don't know how I feel about that."_

"_I think this is perhaps part of your departure from the newborn stage, my dear. Do you feel as though now, when you hunt, there is less of a frenzy, that your thoughts are clearer, more coherent? That you can find the best route of attack, and formulate a plan, rather than just pouncing head on?" I wondered._

_She nodded, "I'm never as thirsty… No, I don't think it's that… I'm just, I'm finally getting used to that burning, when I can smell the animal nearby there's not an inferno in my throat, there's just a fire. Of course, it's still an inferno around humans."_

_I grinned, "As it will be for a long time yet, love. You've been doing so well."_

_She smiled, and buried her face in my chest, "But this newfound liking of hunting… it's not a bad thing, is it?"_

_I shook my head, "Not at all. Medically speaking, rarely ever are we worried by a healthy appetite, it's the absent ones that scare us."_

_She laughed a little at that, "I just feel somewhat barbaric enjoying that kind of thing."_

"_That's important," I kissed the top of her head, "To hold onto a part of humanity like that, to know that if you had the choice, this isn't the one you would make."_

_She nodded, "I catch myself sometimes, so used to this life forgetting that this isn't what being human is like. It's just that this life you've created for us is so civil, I sometimes forget what we are. We're so far away from humans I can sometimes just forget that I need to hunt, I can focus so much on other things that the thirst isn't the first on my mind, and I've been trying to do that for such a long time, think about other things, and finally it's worked. It's odd sometimes to remember that I'm a predator, that I could crush a human, that my teeth could probably slice through steel, that I'm… not human. Well, I suppose, 'normal' would be a better word, I think I am acutely aware of my inhumanity," she let out a laugh, and smiled into the fabric of my shirt._

_My fingers ran through her hair as I nodded, "We are as normal as can be, but I know what you mean. The speed, the strength, the senses, it almost so familiar that you forget there was any other way. That's how most vampires lose their feeling of respect for humanity. That's how most vampires can condone taking another's life without even thinking about it, because they forget what it was like to be one, and then to them there is just this over population of feeble, weak, slow, and absolutely delicious species out there, so why shouldn't they take it?"_

_My question was meant to be rhetorical, but after a short silence Esme answered anyway._

_She nodded, "Yes," she whispered, "That makes sense, I can see that. Your logic about why we shouldn't kill humans always made more sense to me than the opposing side, but I understand it. I understand that completely." I'll admit, the way she spoke, with such amazement, scared me a little, but she carried on, "They forget that humans have lives too. Have feelings, have hopes, have dreams, families, purposes, futures. They forget that humans matter, that the people they kill could have been their friend had they not been the way they are. I understand," she whispered, and then turned to look up and beam at me, "We should have conversations like this more often."_

Since that day I noticed a change in the way hunted. She ran with more fluidity, gliding over the thick layers of snow, flying through the frozen air, she pounced with more precision, eying her pray with extreme care before lunging for it's neck, and perhaps the most noticeable difference was the little smile she wore once she was done. She remarked once, after Edward had risen a brow at her happiness during the hunt, that _'every animal gone, is a human who lives on.'_ For the first time since her joining our family, the hunting trips were fun occasions and not merely obligations.

We took breaks, of course, we couldn't constantly hunt animals for three days without stopping for we'd full up too quickly or kill far too many and waste was not something I liked to condone. It was on one of these particular breaks, which Edward had run ahead with a chuckle (he was so proud of being the fastest again), that Esme weaved through the trees, spinning around the trunks, laughing with her endearing little knitted cap on.

"Do you prefer observation to participation?" She wondered with a smirk making her darling dimples ever so evident in her perfect little cheeks.

I grinned from where I leaned up on a trunk a few trees away, "I think I enjoy each in good measure."

She shook her head with fondness, and swung around the trunk once more, getting the worn wool of her brand new mittens caught on the rough bark for the umpteenth time.

"Whoops!" She exclaimed with a giggle, using the momentum she had acquired to fling herself to another tree, "Poor mittens!"

I laughed to myself, and followed, as she flung from one trunk to another, "It looks like your mittens have nearly come to the end of their life."

She spun around a trunk a few times, and then flung herself to me with a big grin upon her face. I caught her with perfect precision, and wrapped my arms around her slim waist as her hands slid from the spot on my chest where they had landed, to encircle my neck.

"You know, I was never very good at knitting, but I do suppose that I should try to learn again, I might be better at it now," she pursed her lips and considered the thought carefully.

"Or perhaps," I murmured, learning in closer to her beautiful lips that were beginning to morph into a smile as she realised my intentions, "You should merely bask in the fact that you have a husband whose greatest wish in the whole wide world is to spoil his beloved wife."

Our lips collided with a soft tenderness that was perhaps singular to our two beings due to her loving nature and my compassionate heart.

"Or perhaps," she whispered pulling away, "You could spoil me with needles and wool, then I could knit you mittens," she lifted her gloved hands to each side of my face, and grinned, "And we'd all be happy!" She scrunched up her nose before she giggled, stepped back, grabbed my hand, turned around and began to run, pulling me with her.

Her good mood sent my spirits soaring.

We weaved through the trees together for a short while not looking for, nor going anywhere in particular, merely just basking in each others presence and enjoying the warm wind against our faces. Of course, to be fair, the temperature would have been very, very near zero degrees Celsius, but I'd never been in a climate so cold that I was warmer than the air.

Esme's knitted mittens, hat and scarf were completely unnecessary accessories for her to wear while hunting, but she was trying her best to 'stay as human as possible' so she bundled herself up nice and warm before stepping out into the deep snow that had been on the ground since December. She'd even coaxed me into wearing a scarf, but couldn't convince Edward to wear anything seeing as though we left during nightfall, and would arrive back home obscured by the same darkness so the human pretence was, as he put it, 'completely unnecessary and most likely quite impractical in this particular instance.'

Esme's current, quiet humming fitted in perfectly with the serene surroundings, as small specs of snow began to fall from the white cloud cover above, and onto the white floor below. Due to her low body temperature the flakes did not melt when they reached Esme's skin or hair, which was something that always filled her with glee, and consequently did exactly the same for me.

As we ran she hummed and laughed intermittently, and I merely continued by her side entranced by her good mood and sheer beauty, in fact, I didn't even realize where we were headed, or what we passed to get where we ended up, but soon enough Esme came to a halt, and I tore my eyes away from her face to see what she was staring at.

I could feel an involuntary smile spread across my face as my eyes captured the wide sheets of ice lying atop a once fluid lake. I gingerly stepped onto the slippy ice, thankful for the extreme coordination that came with being a vampire, pulling her slowly with me. Her doe eyes were wide with caution, looking at me as though I'd lost my mind.

"Is this a good idea?" She wondered.

I smiled, "I won't let you fall – not that that is possible."

She took a deep breath and eyed me cautiously before giving in, and letting me lead her onto the ice.

"Wasn't it just mere moments ago that you wondered if I preferred observing or participating in the dancing? Well, I think, in this instance, I definitely prefer participation."

She smiled and gripped onto me tightly, letting me lead her further away from the safely of the snow, "Isn't this usually done with skates?" She wondered.

I nodded, "I'll have to remember to buy you some for next time."

She smiled and shook her head indulgently, "You'll jump at any excuse."

I chuckled, sliding backwards and turning us in a slight spin, she clutched my hands tighter with worry, "I don't need any excuse." I murmured, pulling her in closer, dropping a hand to wrap around her waist.

Her hand automatically reached for my shoulder, and I turned us in another circle. Soon enough we were gliding around the frozen pond, and with each minute that passed, she grew more confident, and began to dance with me.

She laughed when I twirled her around, and soon began to hum a song for us to dance to. I recognised it immediately as the tune she always sung when she was happy – Edward called it 'her happy song' and he'd even played a similar tune on the piano once or twice to see her smile of delight, though I'm not sure if she realised that it was her song just quite yet. This song stopped and morphed into bubbling laughter each and every time I dipped her, spun her, or lifted her. Sometimes she tried humming through the laughter, but that was nearly impossible for even a vampire to do, we didn't have an extra set of vocal folds.

Before long, the falling snow had managed to littler her hair, and catch in her eyelashes, it was pure white – only slightly paler than her own skin. She looked like a true ice princess. I couldn't resist stealing the countless kisses that I took from her lips, but I am certain she never minded once.

"I'm truly serious about those skates," I pointed out at one point, when her arms were wrapped around my torso under my jacket, "I think you'd make a very good skater." She had remarked a few times before, that she especially loved sneaking inside my jackets, and I had to agree, there was some sweet kind of intimacy about it, like the world was just composed of her and me.

She smiled looking up at me, "Do you skate?"

I gave a half shrug, "I have skated before."

She giggled, "Always the modest one. You'll teach me?"

"Of course," I promised, "I'll always teach you anything I know, which you want to learn. In fact, I'll learn new things just to teach you, if you'd like."

She leaned in to nuzzle her nose with my own, "So good to me, you are."

I grinned, "It's my pleasure, love."

"Well, isn't this lovely?" Edward's voice teased from the other side of the lake, "And here I was, thinking you two were out hunting, but really, hunting weekends seem to call for dancing!"

Esme smiled indulgently, and I laughed aloud, looking over my shoulder at the bronze-haired boy, "It's the spontaneous special moments stolen from every day life that are the real reason for happiness, Edward. Grand gestures are great every once and a while, but without the smaller things in between, happiness would only be sporadic at best."

Edward let out a laugh, "Gee, Carlisle, you sound a great deal like Esme, all of a sudden."

My wife looked up with a cheeky smile, catching Edward's eye over my shoulder, "I do hope you're not inferring that's a bad thing!"

He grinned a crooked smile, "Never." He hopped onto the ice without effort and slid his way to where we were standing, "May I?" He wondered gesturing for Esme's hand.

I agreed with a smile, but let her go reluctantly, before skating to the shore to watch from the snow.

Edward was one of the finest dancers I'd seen; years of practise coupled with natural ability meant his lanky form was not at all uncoordinated as it may look.

I could tell from the way he looked down at Esme, from the set of his jaw to the crease of his brow, that she was telling him something in her head. A grin spread across his face at one point, and his eyes lit up with mischief, I could only assume she'd pointed out that she didn't quite feel right on the ice, because he sped up the dance, and spun her around laughing at the unhappy set of her mouth, but he and I both could see the love shining in her eyes. I was certain she would struggle ever being truly livid with either of us.

"Off!" She called with a smile in her voice, "I'm getting off this ice!"

Edward laughed, but granted her wish, and held her hand as they glided toward me. I caught her in my arms when they reached the snow, and she fell into them laughing.

"That won't be so bad with skates," she remarked, "In heels I'm just a little nervy."

"I'm assuming you didn't skate as a human?" Edward wondered, brushing the fallen snow off of his jacket sleeve.

Esme considered his question for a moment with a most thoughtful expression on her face, and then she shook her head, "No. I don't recall skating. Did you skate?"

"I actually didn't," he murmured, beginning to walk toward the forest again, with us trailing behind. "But I've done many times since becoming a vampire." He looked to me grinning, "I remember the first time I ever walked on ice was when Carlisle was teaching me to fight. It was an unfair advantage, truly."

I chuckled, "And so some might say the same of your gift, others might point out that all is fair in love and war. At least it taught you how to skate."

He laughed a little sardonically, "You teach me to skate by fighting, and Esme to skate by dancing… I see how it is."

I was on the verge of challenging him to a friendly sparring session when Esme interjected, "All right, we don't really want a fighting demonstration right now, do we?"

Edward shrugged, "Why not?"

Esme's eyes narrowed, "Because violence is never the answer."

That succeeding in stopping any convincing arguments that Edward or I may have come up with to sway her, and change her mind. I'd not considered it in depth before, the view she might take on us fighting, would that bring too many reminders of the horror-filled final years of her human life? I nearly shuddered at the thought.

"Shall we continue with the hunt, then?" I wondered.

Edward nodded eagerly, and darted off into the woods, closely followed by Esme and I. He led us through the dense bush, where the evergreen trees were so dense they provided a solid enough canopy to prevent any snow from falling through, resulting in intermittent patches of snow-less ground. I kept my eyes carefully scanning the forest surrounding us; my nose carefully searching for any traces of animal scent, my ears trained on the noises around, but found not one trace of life.

We burst through the gaps between trees, occasionally finding an open meadow and running through the thick snow at such a speed not even a single footstep was left behind. We kept close as we ran, our lifestyle allowed that – 'traditional' vampires would often be unable to hunt with anyone but their mate, for the competition was too much to handle, and large hunting parties often resulted in more vampire loss than human death.

As we zigzagged through a particularly dense spot of trees Esme's head shot to the left, and she sniffed the air. A smile spread across her face, "This way!" She announced, before veering off in the direction she was staring.

I sniffed the air to see what animal she had detected that I had missed, but still couldn't smell anything. From the confused look Edward was giving her I guessed he couldn't smell anything either. We changed direction to follow her, and bolted along on her heels. It was hardly a few yards after she detected the scent, that Edward and I picked up on it too – Moose.

It surprised me that she detected it further away, Edward's expression seemed to suggest that it surprised him too.

Esme bounded quietly up into the trees, deciding to stalk the large creatures from above. This was her favourite hunting style. Edward preferred to stalk his prey by circling them so they began to realize they were about to be eaten, and I much preferred to take whatever route would be the quickest, and least painful to the animal.

Edward and I hung back as Esme watched on from the trees above; it was common courtesy to let whoever found the animal to feed first. She took her time waiting for the right angle, so as not to scare the others away before Edward or I could pounce. Edward often liked a good chase, so I could tell from the way he stood a few steps behind me that I was to spring second, catching one that hadn't managed to run too far away, and he would catch one of those that had managed to escape.

We watched Esme carefully as her golden eyes analysed every movement that the moose made. We'd not been near them long enough for the wind to catch our scent, but every millisecond that passed could give our presence away.

It was when one of the great animals grunted and straightened up and looked around that its neck was exposed enough for her to perfectly pounce upon it. Her muscles tensed, and a small smile formed across her lips, as Edward and I fell into our hunting crouches, and she sprung from the high branch above without a sound that the animals could hear. Her prey was dead on the floor in the next heartbeat, and the startled animals looked around, then began to flee. I sprung from the bushes, and took down the one closest to me, while Edward began his chase of those who had already slipped away.

The moose, merely being a very large member of the deer family, wasn't the most spectacular tasting creature whose blood I had drunk, but I wasn't picky so it was good enough. Edward rejoiced the days he was lucky enough to find a mountain lion prowling the woods, Esme wasn't old enough to have developed a real liking for a particular animal, so any carnivore overjoyed her. I had a particular liking for lynxes and foxes, but the moose suited me just fine. I was used to the slightly tangy taste, Esme had once described it as similar to sour milk, but not as bad – drinkable. Of course, I hadn't the slightest idea what sour milk tasted like, but I was slightly alarmed that she did.

I finished draining my moose before she did, but she looked up smiling after a short while, and I offered to dispose of the carcass for her.

"Such the gentleman," she grinned, passing me the furry creature, "I wonder how far Edward let the poor beast run before he caught it."

I laughed, "Far enough, methinks."

Once I'd rid the bodies, we started off in the general direction that Edward had gone.

"It's a shame we didn't get better game," I murmured as we ran, looking over to my wife.

She shrugged her gentle shoulders, "Maybe another time, although I would have liked a bear, maybe a fox, even just a coyote."

I laughed, "Well I apologise, I can't help you with that, but I do think I smell squirrel."

She shook her head fondly and laughed, remembering the day Edward had moped around the house complaining of the lack of interesting animals in our nearby forests, calling out that he 'might have to be reduced to hunting squirrels!'

Such small animals weren't very sustainable things for us to hunt; we tried to stick to the larger animals for the environments sake.

We found Edward not far away, lounging up against a tree waiting for us expectantly.

"How many did you catch?" I wondered, his smile was very self-satisfied; he had to have caught more than one.

"Three," he grinned, pushing away from the trunk and coming to join us, "Although they weren't delicious, they hit the spot."

I clapped him on the back when he neared, "Good job. Where to now? Are we ready to head home, or do you want to try your luck for another bear?"

Edward shrugged, "I'm full enough not to need more, but it depends what the two of you would prefer."

I looked to Esme, who shook her head, "I'm ready to head home when you both are. I've had enough."

I nodded, gesturing for them to lead the way, "Shall we then?"

I was always struck with a sense of irony at how ordinary our conversation was in the most extraordinary of places and situations. Esme would say that it perfectly represented our predicament, that it embodied our life, our choice to be ordinary in a very extraordinary life – she was quite astute my wife.

As we ran I recalled a particular conversation I'd been meaning to have with my family, "I meant to say, last month Doctor Denton asked if we'd like to go to New York next month, for me to attend a conference?"

The trees that sped passed obscured both of my family members from view, but I heard their voices clear enough.

"New York?" Esme wondered with an emotion I couldn't distinguish in her voice, I urged to see her face.

"Yes, New York City," I confirmed.

"I'd be very interested, I've always wanted to see New York City. Didn't I read somewhere that Conan Doyle was touring the east coast of the States, Esme? He might be in New York, we could go an see him," Edward suggested.

"Oh, I don't know," Esme's voice was hesitant, "I think you boys would enjoy it more than I. He's there promoting spiritualism, I've read that he doesn't much like to be asked about Sherlock Holmes these days."

Irrationally, it angered me that this man had upset my wife, "We don't have to go to New York," I pointed out, "Just a passing idea."

"Oh no!" Esme interjected, "It would be interesting, there are so many museums and galleries I've read about. It would be nice to see something like that, maybe?"

"I've never been to the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens," I told her, "It would be nice to see that, and I'd love to show you around the others too."

Edward laughed, "You won't be at your conference?"

"Not _all_ the time," I pointed out, "So do we have a unanimous answer?"

They chimed in their affirmations, and we began to run in silence. It was not a great distance that we had to cover until we reached our home, but the darkness began to fall a short while into our run through the snow covered trees. The night came early in the winter days. The brightest of white days morphed silently into the blackest of dark nights in the span of perhaps a mere half hour in the afternoon. Snowy nights were always somewhat eerie to me, the white of the snow didn't fit quite right with the darkness of the sky in the way that the dark greens of the forest always had. It stood out garishly, the only bright thing in a very dark world – a little like a lamb in an ambush of tigers.

It was in a particularly dense part of the forest, where the thick canopy of leaves allowed not one flake of snow to pass through that I heard Esme sniff the air from far away, "Did you smell that?"

Her distant voice was laced with confusion, and curiosity as though she had just smelt a scent she'd never encountered before. I was just about to ask her what she meant when a highly uncomfortable feeling spread throughout my body.

All of a sudden I had the feeling that I was hurtling too fast through the night, and we were all too far apart. In that moment I didn't feel like a husband, a father, or even a doctor. I was a vampire, I was a coven leader, I was a mate, I was nearly three hundred years old, my coven members were far too far away, and something was telling me that there was something wrong. I was just about to call out to them and tell them to come back when Edward yelled out with a whimper, and a growl, "Esme, no!"

I had a split second to wonder what had gone wrong, as all control I might have once felt slipped right through my fingers. Why was she so far away? What had she smelt? Where was she going? What was happening?

And then, just as those thoughts entered my mind, the most gut wrenching sound I'd ever heard ripped through the night. First there was a faint rustle of leaves, like a predator jumping from a tree, then the booming sound of two stone bodies crashing together, followed by the wet sound of the earth being disrupted, but that wasn't the worst of the noise. The haunting sound wasn't a howl, or a wail or even a scream, but it sounded just like a catfight. There was one distinct rumbling, like a tyger pouncing on it's prey - a guttural growling, a sure fire war cry – from a voice I didn't recognise, but my brain barely registered that. For the other noise that ripped through the silent snowy scene, the voice of surprise, or terror, of fright – the voice that sounded as though it was asking for help in a heart breaking cry… that was the voice of my wife.

Esme.

Esme.

"_Esme!"_

* * *

_A.N. Hi guys! Thanks again for all of you reviews! I'm glad you're enjoying the story :) _

_Now, I would just like to point out the misspelling of the word tiger as tyger was completely intentional, and I do have a reason! Originally this chapter was entitled 'Visitor' because of the way it ends, but that title was no fun, and it gave too much away about the ending, so I decided to come up with another one. I was tossing up between the one I used, and another – 'The Lamb and The Tyger' because I drew a lot of inspiration for this chapter from two poems by William Blake 'The Lamb' and 'The Tyger.'_

_I've always loved the way that Blake spells Tyger in the archaic instead of the modern version; to me it gives weight to the symbolic nature of the poem. I couldn't resist slipping that in there._

_The reason I used these two poems for inspiration was because this chapter, at its core, is about the choice the Cullen's have made to be vegetarians as such, and the contrast that exists between them and the rest of the vampire population. Esme really comes to see in the beginning that there is logic behind the choice that the other vampires make, and up until one point I do think that Esme would have chosen to be vegetarian not just because she valued human life, and it was what Carlisle did, but also because she couldn't quite fully grasp why the other vampires were so unfazed by murder. Now, I realize saying that the Cullen's are in some way or another 'The Lamb' side of William Blake's coin would be slightly improper because they are in no way harmless – but they are not the Tyger. So they fit in the undefined matter in between the Tyger and the Lamb, being neither one nor the other._

_I'd apologise for the cliffhanger, but I'm not sorry ;)_


	55. Mary

_Chapter Fifty-Five: Mary_

_Halifax, Nova Scotia, February 1922_

_Edward_

The dark night was still, aside from the chaos in the distance, and the chaos in my mind. Carlisle – the closest, and always loudest mental voice – was crazed with panic, running with such fear and in such frenzy that he was nearly as fast as me. The second loudest mental voice in my head was Esme's but her thoughts were so jumbled with surprise, pain, and terror that I could barely understand them. Her downright terror had my feet pressing harder and faster against the snow.

The third voice in my head was just as scared as the rest of us, but the fear had sprung her into a fit causing her to attack whatever came near her first, in fear of her own life. Her thoughts held an edge of determination that Esme's were also beginning to develop and Carlisle was maddened with. The attacker – the woman – was a nomad, I could tell that much, and from her naivety, I could also tell that she was young. An elderly vampire would seldom spring an ambush on a coven of vampires in a forest when he or she were out numbered.

I reached Esme quickly, but not quickly enough it seemed, for it was long enough for the nomad to dig her teeth into Esme's shoulder, but not long enough for her to rip anything off.

The two women were rolling around in the mud, pushing and pulling, tugging and growling. It was not hard to pull the woman off Esme; this meant she was not a newborn. I mentally sighed a breath of relief. Carlisle arrived right at the moment I had the woman off his wife. He ran over to Esme who was still on the ground, and quickly picked her up, giving her the quickest once over I'd ever seen while I wrestled with the squirming nomad. He then turned around to face his wife's attacker, gently guiding Esme behind him in protection. He had a half a mind to crouch down into his hunting crouch and growl before questioning her, but his compassion won over. He stood in front of Esme with his palms facing toward her in a sign of mercy.

I held her in a vice grip she'd no hope in wriggling out of, as I silently appraised her. She had dark brown hair that was falling out of a messy bun atop her head, and she was wearing an old dress that had seen far better days. It was so ripped, her bloomers were visible in places, and she wore a half-torn corset that in no way served it's purpose. She was small, an inch or two shorter than Esme, with bright red, wild eyes, and gleaming bared teeth.

"If you do not want to harm us, child, we do not want to harm you."

The woman was confused; she didn't trust Carlisle – she had no reason to. In fact, she began to growl more as she grew more panicked. I was on strict instructions never to reveal my gift to strangers, but in this instance I took my chances, for I would have wagered the young vampire didn't know anything at all about gifts.

"She's growing hysterical," I murmured. The woman froze for a moment, as she processed my words, then her thrashing about grew worse.

"Please!" Carlisle nearly begged, "Calm down, I'm telling the truth. I have no desire to harm you. My name is Carlisle Cullen, and this is my family. The woman you harmed, my wife, is Esme, and the man holding you is Edward. We live nearby Halifax, I am a doctor."

The woman let out a harsh laugh, as she calmed somewhat, "What kind of sick joke is that? A doctor?" She spat.

I bit back a growl at her disrespect, just as Esme did. Suddenly I remembered that Esme was in pain.

"Carlisle," I murmured, "She bit her."

Carlisle's eyes widened,and his teeth ground together. There was nothing more he would like to do than turn around and fix her wound, but he knew it was too dangerous to turn his back on a volatile vampire.

"Yes, I am a doctor. We live a very different lifestyle than that which you are used to. What is your name, child?" Carlisle wondered.

_Mary_, the woman thought, but didn't say, she merely ground her teeth.

Carlisle's eyes flickered to me, and he cocked an eyebrow. _If she had a gift she would have used it by now, so I'm assuming she doesn't, and she acts young so she mightn't even be aware of the phenomenon. If you feel safe to speak, tell me her name?_

I nodded, "Mary."

A feral growl ripped through the woman, and she began to thrash about once more.

"Mary," Carlisle murmured, "It's nice to meet you. Pray tell, why did you attack my wife?"

Visions of seeing us, feeling threatened, hiding, and finally hearing that Esme smelt her scent flooded through her mind as she growled louder.

_Edward?_

"She's been watching us running back home, she felt threatened by our numbers, she was hiding, but Esme smelled her, so she panicked and attacked. She thought we would kill her."

Mary growled once more, and her hostility toward me became more pronounced, _How does he do that?_ She wondered.

"She's confused," I told Carlisle.

"Of course, I'd imagine so. You seem very young Mary, when did you enter into this life?"

Mary ground her teeth, "And you seem very old."

Carlisle let out a chuckle, "Indeed, I guess I rather am. Nearly three hundred years to be exact. If you agree that you will not hurt us, we could talk about this."

"You keep saying you won't hurt me," Mary growled, "So if you do not want to hurt me, why won't you let me go?"

Carlisle smiled warmly, "Because we do not want to be hurt either." His mind flickered to Esme, and his thoughts filled with worry, "You've done enough damage."

"Let me go, and I won't do any more," she said, "I'll leave."

"If you have no intention of harming us, then I will have no issues instructing Edward to let you go, but Mary, I must inform you, as I'm sure you're already slightly aware, Edward will know if your intentions are pure. Also, I'd much prefer it if you didn't leave, you do seem new to this life, and I know what it is like to be alone and afraid. I've been this way for quite some time, I'm happy to answer any questions you might have."

Her eyes narrowed, and she looked between Carlisle and Esme, "Why should I trust you?" She wondered, her glare settled on Esme whose doe eyes were still wide with fear behind Carlisle's shoulder, "I hurt _her._"

"Yes," Carlisle sighed, "You did. That does upset me, but Mary, if I had wanted to hurt you, don't you think I would have done that by now?"

Another growl ripped through her body, and she tried to wriggle her way out of my grasp some more, before screaming a question that had annoyed her since I caught her, _"Why are your eyes gold?"_

She fought against me so hard, I nearly lost my hold of her. Carlisle moved forward to help, but in the very next moment my grasp was fixed again. Carlisle and Esme both relaxed, and Carlisle smiled warmly once more.

"They are gold because we do not prey on humans, we feed on animals."

All anger and hostility drained from Mary's thoughts upon hearing this; curiosity and confusion took over.

"Excuse me?" She asked dumbfounded, as though there was a remote possibility that she could have heard him wrong.

"My family and I do not feed on the blood of humans, we feed exclusively on the blood of animals."

It was quiet for a moment, until Mary blurted out incredulously, "But _why_?"

"Because we do not want to harm them, we live a peaceful life amongst them. Humans are our friends, our neighbours, our peers, and our co-workers. We respect them, and we value their lives, _we do not want to harm them_."

Mary relaxed back, and knocked into my chest, _What on Earth? This man has got to be the strangest person I've ever met. First not to attack when I attacked his _wife_, and then he tells me they drink _animals_! I… I…_

I smiled, and loosened my grip on her, "She's interested now, not hostile."

Her head turned around to look at me with narrowed eyes, "What are you?" She wondered.

I smiled, "I'm just like you, except I have an extra sense."

_Which is?_ She wondered, and I answered before she could speak her question aloud.

"I can read your mind."

Her mind went empty upon hearing that.

"There is a lot we have to talk about," Carlisle murmured, "When you awoke to this life, were you accompanied by your creator?"

Mary's mind flashed back to a dark forest as the flames receded from her body, and she opened her eyes for the first time, to see an inhumanely beautiful man standing above her. She remembered the attack, and anger filled her body. Growling, she flung up and bolted straight for the man, digging her teeth into his flesh as easily pulling him to pieces, throwing the torn pieces in a nearby burning flame, unaware of what she was doing.

Mary's eyes flashed up to mine, and I detected a slight edge of fear.

"She destroyed him," I told Carlisle, who sighed, but nodded.

"It's unfortunate, but understandable, newborns are unpredictable."

Mary's brow furrowed, she expected the peaceful doctor Carlisle to be annoyed that she was a killer. There was a brief silence, as she gathered her thoughts, and then cautiously eyed up Carlisle.

"You mean me no harm?" She sought clarification of her safety, which Carlisle gave willingly, "Then of course, I mean you no harm either." Her eyes flicked to Esme, "And I apologise about that bite."

Esme smiled shyly, her hand drifted up to her shoulder, "And I apologise for frightening you."

Mary was surprised by her gentle voice, which was softer than Carlisle's or mine, but she quickly berated herself, _There's no point being surprised with this lot, they're… different._

I smiled a little, and looked to Carlisle, wondering if I should let her go. He seemed to be able to read my face, and nodded toward me, so I loosened my grip on the nomadic vampire, and let her slip away from me.

She moved to my right, and dusted off her dirty dress, as Carlisle's worried eyes flickered to Esme. He wanted to help her, to stop the pain, but it was still against his instincts to turn his back on the newcomer.

I took this as my opportunity to distract her, so I turned to face Mary, "Where are you originally from?" I wondered.

"Here, Nova Scotia," she replied in her Canadian accent, "You're all Americans?"

I smiled and shook my head, "Carlisle's British, but I'm from Chicago, Illinois, and Esme from Columbus, Ohio. When we you born?"

"Into this life? Or as a human?" She wondered, her bright red eyes curious beneath her brown eyebrows, which were raised.

I shrugged, "Both." I paid slight attention to Carlisle, who was trying to convince Esme to let him see the mark Mary had made, but Esme was trying play down the pain, she wasn't doing a very good at deceiving him though, Carlisle had been bitten by another vampire before, he knew the stinging pain she was experiencing, and he also knew how to fix it.

"I was born in 1890," Mary murmured, "I was…" she struggled to find the word to describe her becoming a vampire.

"Changed," I offered.

She nodded once, "Changed in '18 when I was twenty-eight, I'm not entirely sure how long I've been this way, I've not paid much attention to the human world, or how much time has passed since then."

I noticed she never once battered an eyelash, she stared at me with her bright red eyes unblinking, still like a statue with only her mouth moving to speak, and her chest rising to breathe.

"It's March 1922," I told her, "It's been four years." I was somewhat proud of myself to being more civil than she was, having been a vampire for the same length of time as her. I took in her ripped, dirty clothes, and dirty brown hair, once again. I'd never really considered the nomadic life for myself, perhaps because Carlisle offered such a pleasant, and civil existence in his company, and seeing her in that state reminded me why I'd never really given it a second thought.

Mary didn't smile in thanks for my information, she merely gave one curt nod, "Thank you, it doesn't seem that long…" her eyes drifted over my shoulder to Carlisle, "What is he doing?" She wondered, her brow furrowed.

I kept my eyes trained on her face, and in all truth, my muscles were tensed and ready to spring should she decide to take back her promise of peace now that Carlisle was otherwise preoccupied. I watched through her eyes as Carlisle pushed Esme's sleeve over her shoulder, so he could reach her would, and brought his lips to it. It looked like he was merely kissing it better.

"He's sealing Esme's wound," I told her simply, "If you remove the venom from it, it won't sting."

Her red eyes flashed back to me, "I'll remember that for next time."

I cocked an eyebrow, "Next time? You enjoy fighting?"

She narrowed her eyes, "Unavoidable in a life like mine, sometimes." _In a normal life…_ she added mentally.

"We like to think our life _is_ mostly normal," I pointed out.

_Mind reader,_ she reminded herself, then spoke aloud, "I can't think of any situation where a vampire doctor could be considered normal."

I just shrugged, as Carlisle lifted his head from Esme's shoulder, and guided her sleeve back to place, before giving her a look, and wondering _Better?_

As though she could read his mind, Esme nodded and smiled. He placed a chaste kiss on her cheek, before turning around to face Mary and I.

"Mary," Carlisle murmured with a warm smile, "How would you like to come back to our house where we can get to know each other better? It's near Halifax, but it's quite far away from the human populace."

Intrigued by us, Mary agreed.

As we set off Carlisle's mental voice called out to me, _Edward? Keep an eye on Esme, will you? I should have taught her some defensive moves before now. Silly of me, leaving her defenceless to get her. _I could nearly feel the pain that was running through him as he thought, _I could have lost her_, but he soon reminded himself that he simply couldn't think like that, and I nodded to his request.

I let Carlisle take the lead with Mary, and ran by Esme's side, behind them. Esme wanted to trust this nomadic vampire because Carlisle did, but she couldn't find it in her heart to forget the pain that the five-foot-four, scruffy Canadian vampire caused her. She kept her eyes perfectly trained on Carlisle's back, wondering exactly what she would do if Mary attacked, but only knowing that she would do _something_. Thankfully, that didn't happen, and we flew through the snowy midnight forest all the way back to Halifax in peace.

When we arrived home, Esme offered Mary the bathroom, and a fresh change of clothes. Mary stood still for a short few moments after the suggestion left Esme's mouth – unblinking, completely frozen.

Esme looked to Carlisle with worry, but he merely smiled, "She's surprised, she's shocked."

Mary came back to life then, "You can read minds too?"

Carlisle shook his head, "It's a textbook response to shock; vampires go into complete stillness. You shouldn't be alarmed; Esme is sincere in her offer. We have a perfectly good bathroom just down the hall, and many clothes upstairs."

Mary's ruby eyes narrowed, "Is it customary for you to be so generous? Is that characteristic of you golden eyed people?"

Carlisle laughed, "In all truth, we've never come across another coven of vampires that live in such a way that we do, so I wouldn't know."

"You're a guest in this house," Esme murmured from her spot behind Carlisle's shoulder, "We want you to feel welcome."

Mary shook her head in befuddlement, "You are all something else entirely, but I'll not reject your offer, it has been too long since I last was able to bathe, and these clothes have been on my back for an eternity."

Carlisle and I showed Mary to the bathroom, while Esme raced upstairs to choose some clothes out for our visitor. She payed careful attention to which fabrics were the sturdiest, and chose those that would last the longest with our visitor's lifestyle.

Mary was still surprised at our generosity when Esme handed her the clothes, and we left her in peace. As the water ran in the bathroom, we three made our way to the study at the other end of the house, where Carlisle immediately turned to Esme.

"Are you all right?" He wondered, reaching out for her.

She nodded, with a fondness in her golden eyes, "I told you, I'm just fine. It doesn't even hurt anymore, stop fussing." She playfully swatted away his _'doctor hands.'_

"You scared me to death," he breathed, wrapping her in his arms, "You scared me to death."

I let them have their moment, averting my eyes out the window. The sun was beginning to rise behind the clouds, slowly lightening up the snowy scene outside the window, and filling the room with white light.

When Carlisle pulled away slightly – still keeping Esme tucked beneath his chin – he looked to me, _Where do we stand with Mary?_

If I spoke in a whisper, I knew she wouldn't hear me, "She's intrigued by you. Not intrigued as in she would convert, she's content with her nomadic life, she doesn't want company and she's not overly fussed by the thought of hunting animals, but she's curious as to what you have to say. She was genuinely afraid for herself when she attacked Esme. She's eager to learn more about this life, and she won't ever admit it aloud, but she's intrigued by the prospect of having acquaintances. As much as she likes to be alone, she likes the idea of knowing someone."

_She trusts us enough to refrain from attacking?_ He subconsciously rubbed his hands up and down Esme's back, and she fought against the urge to purr, embarrassed at the prospect of me hearing that.

I nodded, "She won't attack. We confuse her, but she can see that we mean no harm. That confuses her even more."

He nodded once, and tightened his grip on Esme, _Thank you for what you did back there, Edward. You did well restraining her, and I'm glad you didn't reveal your gift straight away. We will have to work on that though, I'm uncomfortable having her know at all._

I sighed and nodded, "As am I. We'll have to devise away for me to silently get information to you."

_Perhaps we stick to yes or no questions, a blink for yes, and nothing for no?_

"It could work," I shrugged, "We'll have to try it."

He nodded, inhaling Esme's scent to calm his still panicked nerves. That was when I caught Esme's thoughts, _Edward. If we didn't have a strange vampire in our bathroom just down the hall I would be telling the both of you to speak aloud, so I would like to be clued in on this new communication plan, thank you very much._

I couldn't help the laugh that burst from my chest upon hearing that. Carlisle shot me a quizzical look, and I caught the pull of Esme's dimple in her cheek.

_Did she think something funny?_ He wondered, so I blinked once.

He grinned, _She's mad, being left out of the conversation, isn't she?_

I nearly laughed, and blinked again. He was proud that our new method of conversation was working out, and she was miffed that we'd devised away to leave her out even more, but she was too content in his arms fighting off the urge to purr to be mad at him. Mary certainly had one thing right – we were a strange bunch, us three.

The sound of a wet body rising from the tub caused Carlisle and Esme to separate, after he placed a soft kiss to the top of head, and eyed her face carefully to see if there were any traces of discomfort or unhappiness, but she merely smiled back up at him, calming his nerves somewhat.

We quickly made our way to the living room – Esme called it 'The Grand Room' – and Carlisle led Esme to take a seat on the sofa, as I went to stand by one of the windows, scanning everyone's thoughts. Carlisle was going over what he would first tell Mary, Esme was once again taking in the room and it's decorations. She spent a moment to admire the two white fabric chesterfield sofas she had found in Halifax, which filled the room nicely. The colours she chose throughout the house were all light and neutral, shades of white, beige, even some light browny-greys, it made the house brighter – it was a nice contrast to us traditionally being creatures of darkness, and the night. Looking around at her hard work always made her feel comforted. Mary, who was still in the bathroom, was wondering what would happen next, what would Carlisle say? Would she accidentally offend us somehow and cause us to attack her? Did the woman really forgive her for biting her? There were too many questions, so she dressed quickly in order to get some answers.

She bundled up her old clothes, and creaked open the bathroom door, then silently followed our scents into the living room. Both Carlisle and Esme stood when Mary walked in, Esme eyed the dirty clothes.

"Here," she timidly extended her arms, "I can take those clothes for you?"

Mary was once again struck by the odd niceness that we extended to her, but pushed it aside as a particular oddity of ours, and managed a small, uncharacteristic smile, thanking Esme, "I don't need them, they're mostly ruined and ripped. You can just get rid of them if it's easier."

Esme smiled and nodded, taking the heap of clothes. Carlisle gestured for the nomad to take a seat. She looked around the room as she sat on the edge of the sofa, "It's a nice house you have here… Strange, to have a house in the first place, but it's nice."

Carlisle smiled, "Thank you, Esme will be glad to hear that, she's responsible for making it so lovely."

Mary let out a humourless laugh, "I guess I can see how you all are more like humans than the rest of us, living like them and all. I still don't understand how you can be a doctor though, all that blood!"

The way that Mary said _all that blood_ made Carlisle uncomfortable, for she said it not with amazement or astonishment as Esme and I once had, but rather, with desire, as though she would love to be in a hospital with _all that blood._

"Yes," Carlisle ignored his discomfort and spoke as though she'd not put any emotion into her previous statement, "It has taken me a great deal of time, and practise, but I am able to work with my patients and resist the temptation of their blood to enable me to help them."

Mary shook her head, as Esme re-entered the room without the pile of clothing, and made her way to sit beside Carlisle.

"But again, _why_?" She asked in a flabbergasted tone.

Carlisle half-shrugged, "We do not desire to bring harm to humans, we were all once just like them."

Mary shook her head, "I'm sorry, I don't… I don't think I can understand that."

Carlisle sighed, disappointed that he was once again unable to convey his compassion to another vampire, but he nodded and gave her a small smile, "You are among the majority."

"How many of there are you? You golden eyes?"

"Only us three that I am aware of," Carlisle's mind filled with hope and longing, "There may be more, but I have never crossed paths with them."

Mary narrowed her eyes, "And how many of our kind _have_ you crossed paths with?"

Carlisle laughed, "Quite a great deal many," he admitted, "Would you like me to share with you my story?"

Mary considered it briefly, and then, shuffling back in her seat slightly, she nodded. So Carlisle retold the story of his human life, his changing, his discovering his way of life, his nomadic days, his travels, and then he went into great depth regarding the Volturi explaining their job, and giving examples – such as the newborn armies of the south (he made sure to instruct Mary that venturing to the southern states of America would not be in her best interests), and the destruction of immortal children – which sparked alarm in her thoughts. She listened carefully to his tales of his journey to the United States, and his practising as a doctor. She tried to find the slightest resentment in her body when she realised that it was Carlisle who created Esme and I, but she couldn't – whether that was because she wasn't entirely upset about being one of our kind, or because she couldn't help but respect Carlisle, I wasn't sure.

When he finished his story she took a short while to digest what he had said, lingering over some poignant parts in her thoughts, and then with a small smile, she thanked Carlisle for sharing his wisdom with her.

Her eyes flickered between Carlisle and Esme after that, and she unabashedly questioned Carlisle about vampiric romantic relationships, and so he spent another half-hour explaining mates. Mary decided that not having a mate wasn't such a bad thing, and spending time around us was nice, but she was glad she was a solitary nomad. She briefly wondered if all covens were as _strange as this bunch of oddballs_,which made me laugh, and reminded her to question Carlisle about gifts.

"Generally, if you did possess a gift you'd be aware of it by now," he told her, "It's a rare phenomenon."

She felt a little disappointed that she didn't have a gift, but it didn't bother her a great deal.

She then surprised us all with her next question directed at Esme, "I meant to ask, where exactly did you find these clothes of yours? The material is thick, and strong, but soft. It's perfect."

In her surprise at Mary's question, Esme let out a laugh, "I usually get most of my clothes ready made, from catalogues. Although, I have a few coats that are just as sturdy, which I got from the dress shop in town."

Mary smiled another small smile, and shook her head; "I still can't believe you lot a friendly with the humans." Esme smiled back, her eyes timidly dropped to the floor, Carlisle reached for her hand, and rubbed soothing circles on the base of her thumb.

"You never said how old your two companions are?" Mary pointed out, "Uh, I mean your family?"

Carlisle smiled, _Edward?_

"I was born in 1901, and like you, I was changed in 1918, but I was seventeen."

Mary was surprised, _He's more civil than I, perhaps it's the lifestyle?_ She looked to Esme, "And you?"

"I was born in 1895, and changed in April last year when I was twenty-six."

Mary froze once more; her mind was staggered with the knowledge of Esme's age. When she unfroze her eyes widened, "You're less than a _year_ old?"

Esme smiled and nodded, so Carlisle cut in with an explanation, "I'm assuming you're remembering your newborn year?"

"Is that what you call it?"

Carlisle just smiled, "The length of the newborn year is relative…" Carlisle launched into another spiel explaining the early years of vampire life, and why it was that Esme and I were so controlled.

By mid morning, Mary's head was full with stories from Carlisle, and the conversation had lost its intensity, in fact the feeling in the room was mutually comfortable. Mary sat comfortably in the sofa adjacent to where Esme sat with her feet tucked under her body, and Carlisle leaned back into the sofa, I still remained by the window, perfectly content to stand like a statue watching the day outside, and inside the minds of the rooms occupants. It somewhat surprised Carlisle and I when Mary's questions ceased to be directed at Carlisle – our coven leader – and instead where asked to Esme. The two women were reserved in their chatter at first, which was natural of our kind, but soon enough some strange sense of trust was established between the two, and they had become something akin to friends.

As the morning passed into the afternoon we all moved from the living room to give Mary the tour of the house, and Carlisle offered her the downstairs bedroom, which earned him another peculiar look from Mary as she wondered _What use on Earth would I have for a bedroom?_ But she smiled – albeit a little amusedly – and accepted graciously. She insisted that I play something on the piano for her, when we showed her the music room, and marvelled at how very peculiar it was that one of our kind spent his time playing an instrument.

I came to understand why Carlisle would have appreciated the Volturi's company after travelling for so many years only coming across nomads like Mary who had very little, to no respect for the Arts and Sciences.

Mary liked us, but our life amused her more and more as she observed us. She even once remarked that she'd mistake us for humans if only we had the same delectable smell that they did. None of us were quite sure how to reply to that, but Carlisle laughed good naturedly, remarking that after the morning's debacle, he was very glad we _didn't_ smell delectable.

As the day faded into night, Mary showed no signs of wanting to leave just yet, so she and Esme relocated to the living room, and chatted some more.

I remarked to Carlisle that it was nice for her to have a female to talk to, but I knew it made him uneasy to have her so close to another vampire – especially one that previously attacked her.

As the next day came, Esme called in sick to the hospital for Carlisle, and we took Mary our nearby to try hunting animals, but as soon as she tasted the blood, she spat it out, and declared that this life was most certainly not for her. The longer that she stayed with us though, she grew to look passed our oddities and found she'd become rather fond of us all. We grew much more comfortable around her too, to the point where Carlisle even addressed her as a friend. That made her happy, she really did like the thought of having allies in the vampire world.

On the second day after we returned from our hunt I sat in the study as Mary and Esme were in the conservatory laughing about something to do with the new fashion of hair removal which I really didn't want to hear about, so I challenged Carlisle to a game of chess, and asked him if he'd teach me how to speak Greek, which he did so in his head, and the days passed as such. Carlisle grew somewhat restless to return to the hospital, for his days were rather empty with Esme preoccupied with our guest. Mary occupied all of Esme's time, and while Carlisle didn't need to spend every waking moment of his time with his wife, he missed the quiet moments that they would spend together. He reconciled with himself that the feeling would fade with age and familiarity, that the only reason he felt as though he needed to spend so much time with her was because she was still somewhat of a novelty to him. He tried to distract himself with activities involving me, but there were only so many chess games we could play before I left to play piano, and he began to reread his entire library. I grew to be a little stir crazy also; we didn't want to leave Esme alone with Mary so we stayed at home. It was, unsurprisingly, somewhat of a relief when Mary popped her head into the study one night and announced her departure.

"Thank you for all you've done for me, I'm happy that I happened to run into you all," she eyes Esme apologetically, "I am really very sorry about attacking you."

Esme shook her head, "I forgive you, truly."

Mary smiled, and nodded, "Thank you. It's been very kind of you to show such hospitality to me after that, and I will be forever grateful to you Carlisle for your knowledge."

Carlisle smiled, and nodded, "You're welcome. If you ever come across our scents in the woods, don't hesitate to come and say 'Hi,' we're all grateful to be able to call you a friend."

Mary smiled, and agreed, before announcing, "I'd better go. Don't worry, I'll hunt far away from Halifax, you've created a good life for yourselves here, I'll not ruin it."

"Thank you," Carlisle replied earnestly, "That means a great deal."

Mary nodded, and with a final goodbye, she darted into the forest surrounding our house, and disappeared between the trees.

Esme smiled, and leaned her head against Carlisle's shoulder; he wrapped an arm around her waist.

"The snow has begun to melt," she murmured, "It looks like winter is on its way out."

Carlisle and I both offered up grunts of agreement, which made Esme laugh, "As much as I liked having another woman to talk to, I must say I am exceptionally partial to your non-committal noises made to my stray remarks."

Carlisle let out a laugh, and buried his nose in her hair, "I'm glad you made a friend, love."

A cheeky glint flashed in Esme's eyes before she offered her own grunt in reply.

I chuckled, "We've been a bad influence on you."

She shook her head, and turned to move inside, "Oh, by the way," she murmured, eyeing the two of us, "I do expect to be filled in on the silent conversations I missed these passed days."

We grinned, following her back into the house.

"Oh, where to start?" I teased as we wandered down the hallway, "Should we begin with our sneaky plan to enrol you into mathematics courses in the fall semester, or our plan to teach you how to fight, or the plan to teach you to drive?" I hadn't meant for all of the options to sound as joking as they did, after all, I was being entirely serious.

"Har, har," Esme replied sarcastically.

Carlisle sent a pointed look my way, _This really isn't the way I wanted to bring this up._

I grimaced his way, as Esme turned around and caught our silent exchange.

"What," she wondered suspiciously, "Are you two talking about now?"

"Well, love," Carlisle started cautiously, "Edward did suggest that perhaps you would like to take some college courses in the new semester? Of course, the decision is yours entirely."

She considered it, and gave a shrug, "Perhaps I could study art?"

Carlisle grinned, "I think you'd enjoy that very much."

She smiled back at him, imagining herself staring at a gallery full of paintings like it was some kind of heavenly place. Nodding to herself, she agreed, "Yes, I think I would."

Cautiously, Carlisle continued, "We also thought it would be a good idea to teach you what to do if another situation similar to what happened with Mary presents itself."

Esme's eyes quickly went from excitement to black suspicion, narrowing as her lips pursed in a thin line, "Excuse me? What are you meaning to say?"

Carlisle, alarmed at her sudden change in mood, was about to tell her not to worry about it, but he was being short sighted. She couldn't just avoid things she didn't want to do.

"We're going to teach you how to fight," I clarified.

She was taken aback, to say the least, but her reply was simple, "No."

"And," I carried on, ignoring her refusal, "We also think it would be beneficial if you could drive the car."

She looked at me in astoundment, "You also think it would be beneficial…" she let out a harsh laugh, "No."

_Edward!_ Carlisle admonished, _This is not the way we need to address this._

I turned to him, letting out an exasperated sigh, "You're just going to back down and tell her that she doesn't have to."

"Because I _don't_ have to!" Esme stated matter-of-factly, before turning to Carlisle, "And will you speak aloud, please, I am a part of this conversation."

Her harsh words stung Carlisle, "I do apologise, love."

A little of her anger disappeared at that, her expression softened as she nodded at him. He reached out to place a loving hand on her arm, relishing, as she didn't pull away from him.

When he spoke next, his voice was soft, his eyes pleading, "But I do think it'd be a good idea if you learned a little defensive fighting, Esme."

"No," she replied definitely, "I'd rather learn to drive."

"Well, then, I guess we'll start with driving," I chimed in happily, wishing – only a matter of seconds later – that I hadn't, for she turned her face to look my way.

She glared at me with wild eyes, and then said in a most definite tone, "_No_."

We dropped the topic then, but we weren't giving up. I could nearly feel the anger radiating off Esme, so I announced my departure into town. After all, _Carlisle_ was her husband it was _his_ job to placate her.

Heading out the door, I wished him the best of luck finding a way to figure out how to deal with her and the soft spot we'd just hit. In the long run, the lessons would be good for her, but Carlisle was the only one who could ever have a hope in showing her that, and I was obviously making the matter worse. At least Esme was safe, but Mary's visit had given me a lot to to think about...

* * *

_A.N. Hello everyone! Thanks again for all of your reviews! We're at 400! WOW! You guys are amazing! I'm glad you all are still enjoying the story. There's not a lot I have to say about this chapter, but I hope you all enjoyed!_

_Check out my new poll on my profile to tell me what you're looking forward to most in the series! I always like to hear from you guys :)_

_Oh, has anyone read Life and Death: Twilight Reimagined? What did you think? Once I got passed the strangeness of it all, it wasn't too bad!_

_And, my plan is still to finish Faith &amp; Love before the end of the year, so I will be posting chapters over the Christmas period :)_


	56. The Duesenberg

_Chapter Fifty-Six: The __Duesenberg_

_Halifax, Nova Scotia, February 1922_

_Carlisle_

The snow had melted and left behind a wet residue that covered everything. The weight of the snow and the water that remained was too heavy for the long, flaxy grass outside our home to remain standing straight, so it drooped over in a sad stance. The sky was covered in white clouds once again, but not the white clouds that signalled snow, and I knew Esme was happy about that. She didn't mind winter, but I knew she loved the sun (even though it was risky to be out in it), and she loved summer.

It was on that particular day in February, just as the snow had melted, that Esme began something she most certainly did _not_ love.

"I don't want to do this, I don't want to do this, I don't want to do this," she murmured as she slowly stared the car down the driveway, "I hate this, I hate this, I hate this."

I had half a mind to give up my insistence, and tell her not to worry, to apologise, and request she pull over for us to swap seats, but I knew it was better for everyone if I didn't give in so easily. We'd decided that it would be best for her to begin her lessons merely driving up and down our long driveway – that way there was no risk of other citizens being in any danger of a young vampire in a motorcar.

She kept her eyes fixed on the path ahead as she continued muttering, and I recalled the days leading up to her giving in, and allowing us to teach her how to drive. It was a result of what was, perhaps, our very first fight as husband and wife.

_The day after Mary left, Esme was yet to return to her bright and happy self, and Edward wasn't helping, bringing up cars and fighting strategies at every moment he could._

_I tried to guide him onto different subjects, making sure that I spoke aloud for Esme's benefit but it just wasn't working. _

"_I think we should purchase a new car too," Edward told me one afternoon as we walked from the study toward the grand room, planning on asking Esme out for a hunt. "If three of us are going to be driving cars, we should at least own two."_

_I could nearly hear Esme's teeth grinding together from the kitchen, where she cleaned some glasses we'd found in Halifax a while back._

"_Perhaps that's not something we should jump into, but if you'd like your own motor, then by all means, we should investigate it."_

_Edward wasn't at all satisfied with that reply, and instead decided to provoke Esme further, "Perhaps we should buy three, one each?"_

_I gave Edward a reproving look as we reached the open door to the kitchen. Esme's back was to us, as she dried the newly cleaned glasses with a tea towel. _

"_Love?" I murmured, Esme's head turned to the side, "Would you like to go for a hunt soon?"_

_She offered up a small smile, and nodded, "Do you mind if I finish drying these first?" She wondered quietly._

"_By all means," I replied just as softly. She was obviously still upset, and I craved to wander up to her, wrap my arms around her and give her the comfort I knew she needed. _

"_So, as I was saying, Carlisle," Edward murmured, "Three cars would be a better idea. We could get another Cadillac, I really did like how the last one we had drove, even despite it tendency to have those leaky valves. We could get something smaller for Esme, of course."_

"_I think three cars is a little excessive, Edward," I pointed out._

"_But you see the practicality of it, yes?" He wondered._

_I conceded, "Yes, I do. I do however, also see the practicality of simply sharing."_

"_Three people sharing one car?"_

_I shook my head, and leaned back up against the wall, "No, of course not, I'm not opposed to buying _one_ more, I just think that having _three _would be a little ostentatious."_

_Edward shook his head, "I'm sure a lot of women will have their own automobiles in the future."_

_I sighed, "That's not at all what I meant, Edward. I have nothing against Esme having her own car, I just think between the three of us, two would be more than enough."_

"_If," Edward pointed out, "Of course, Esme decides that yes, she does want to have that luxury of choice."_

_I nearly growled at my son for such a tactless thing to say, _Edward!_ I chided, but before I could say more, I was interrupted._

"_Fine!" Esme exclaimed, throwing the tea towel down, and turning around to face us, "I'll learn how to drive, I'll learn how to fight! If it means that the two of you will drop it! Go buy more cars, I really don't care, if it makes you happy, do it. But don't think for one second that I will gladly hop in that car whenever I feel like going into town, or enjoy the sensation like a half crazed mad man, because I won't. I'll always think cars are stupid and annoying, and I'll never enjoy learning how to kill somebody in a fight, I'll do it because it will mean the two of you will stop pestering me about it!"_

_Then she marched forward and left the room, quietly gliding up the stairs and shutting our bedroom door softly behind her. _

_I wasn't quite expecting a reaction quite like that;_ _I looked at Edward, baffled. I had never seen her angry before, let alone lose her temper._

"_I don't know," he murmured, with a shrug, "_You're_ her husband."_

_There was a soft growl from upstairs. _

Alone. _I thought definitely, to which he gave me a curt nod._

"_And I think I might go out for that hunt by myself," he murmured, "I'll, uh, see you later."_

_I nodded, and watched as he turned and disappeared down the hall. I stayed where I was in the kitchen for a short while, wondering how long Esme would like to be alone for. Catching sight of the unfinished dishes on the bench, I rolled up my sleeves, and finished the job Esme had started. As I dried, I contemplated the two reactions she could have to my drying the glasses, the first, she could be grateful, the second, she could be disappointed, having wanted to do it by herself. Deciding that I would face whatever reaction I got when it came to it, I packed away all of the glasses, and then left the kitchen to go back to my study. The time I spent in there was mostly counterproductive, I couldn't take my mind off Esme. I was worried about her, I was sorry for the pain she was feeling, and I realised that she would most likely still be dealing with the shock of being attacked by Mary only days ago. Edward and I could have probably chosen a better time to approach her. To my surprise, I was also feeling slight annoyance – I was almost mad at her. This was a completely new sensation to me; it never occurred to me how it would feel to do anything but love her. She didn't seem to care though, that if I didn't teach her how to defend herself, she would be running around the forest completely defenceless as she was only days ago, and if a vampire worse than Mary was to turn up, she would have no hope. Without her, I had to reason to continue on. Sure, there was Edward, and I loved Edward dearly, but he wasn't my mate as Esme was, my life was dependent on her existence. Couldn't she see that?_

_Closing my book, I rose from my spot behind my desk, and headed toward the hallway. I climbed the stairs quietly and slowly, giving her enough time to call out a warning and tell me to go away – but she didn't._

_I made my way to the room we shared, and stood outside the closed door for a moment, nearly expecting her to tell me to come in, but she didn't. So I gingerly turned the doorknob, and let myself in. _

_She stood by the open window in a light yellow dress, with her arms wrapped around her small figure, and tendrils of her hair that had fallen loose of her bun, flying in the gentle breeze._

"_Esme?" I wondered._

_She didn't acknowledge me; she merely remained standing frozen by the window._

"_Love?"_

_Her shoulders relaxed at my endearment, and I stepped further into the room. Her lips parted slightly, but closed before she could speak, as though she wanted to say something but thought better of it._

"_Are you all right?" I wondered, mentally chiding myself for asking such a silly question._

_She was quiet for a moment longer, before she shook her head, "No, I'm not all right. Are you?" Her words were quiet, but not at all friendly or loving as I had always heard them._

"_No," I admitted honestly, "I'm not all right either."_

"_If you've come up here to continue on with this car and fighting debacle, I'd rather leave it alone for the moment," her voice trailed off at the end of her sentence, and I could almost sense the slight fear in her body. _

_She did, after all, have every right to be scared. She'd only ever seen me angry once before, and in that instance, my upset was not directed toward her, so she had no idea as to how I would react when I was unhappy with something that _she _had done. I reminded myself to be extra gentle._

"_I don't want to continue on this discussion for longer than necessary, but I do think we should hear each other out, love."_

_I watched her jaw clench, "Can I not just have a few moments of peace? This is all you and Edward have said since Mary left. I realize I really don't have a choice in the matter, and I now it's not really worth anything, but I really _don't _want to do this."_

_Her words sliced through my heart, "What do you mean, you 'don't have a choice'? Of course you have a choice! And everything you say matters!"_

"_Really?" She turned around to look at me incredulously, "And how exactly do you see this ending, Carlisle? Because I see this whole thing ending with me behind the wheel of that confounded car, and learning how to rip the head off of a stranger. Tell me honestly that you don't see that too? Tell me honestly that you're not certain that you won't win?"_

_I sighed, "I can't honestly tell you those things, because I don't know how this will turn out."_

_She shook her head, narrowing her eyes, "You won't stop until I give in."_

_I sighed, "Esme, I know it makes you uncomfortable, but you haven't even heard me out. You have to understand that I love you –"_

"_I hope you're not just saying that to pacify me, because that would make me even more mad," she hissed._

"_I'm not, if you'll let me finish," I replied back in a tone that was filled with more anger than I wanted it to be._

_She backed down, rolling in on herself, stepping back, and hitting the wall. I'd crossed a line; I'd made her scared of me. An expletive I was glad Edward wasn't around to hear crossed my mind. _

"_That didn't come out as I intended it to, I apologise," I murmured, running my hand through my hair, trying to find a way to make it up to her, but she didn't give me a chance. _

_She ran out of the room, and I thought it was out of anger. For a fleeting moment, I thought she was upset with me because I couldn't tell her 'no', just as I couldn't say it to Edward. So I was prepared to let her go and have some more time alone to calm down until I looked for her again, but as soon as I heard her trying to choke back quiet sobs, I realised there was more to her reaction than anger – so I followed her. She had slumped down on one of the single seats on the landing, and was trying not to cry. _

_I walked up to her slowly, carefully, prepared for her to pull away from me as I crouched down by her feet and reached up to cup her face, but much to my astonishment, and utter delight, she didn't even flinch._

"_Love," I murmured, causing her to sob harder, "Oh, sweetheart."_

_I stood up, and picked her up, before sitting down and placing her in my lap, holding her tight. My heart ached to see her in pain. _

"_I'm so sorry for upsetting you," I whispered, placing a kiss on her cheek._

_She shook her head, "No," she murmured, "It's my fault."_

"_It is not," I insisted, "Esme, you're standing up for yourself, and what you want. You shouldn't apologise for that."_

_She was quiet for a short while, as she steadied her dry sobs, "But I'm disappointing you," she breathed almost inaudibly._

_I shook my head, "Darling, I don't want to keep disagreeing with you like this, so let me just explain where I'm coming from." I gently moved from side to side, rocking her in my lap, "The only reason I want for you to learn to fight is so that you're not running around out there completely defenceless. I don't want to teach you how to destroy a vampire if you don't want to learn, but I need to teach you how to defend yourself, because Esme I cannot lose you." I placed a kiss on her hair, "And as for the car, you don't have to learn that, but there will come a day when it is most unusual to not have such a skill."_

_She clenched, and unclenched her teeth, "I understand," she murmured, "I just… I know it would beneficial for me to learn how to drive, but I really _hate_ cars, and I don't want to hurt anybody fighting."_

"_Esme, there is a difference between defending yourself and fighting to kill."_

"_I don't want to do either," she insisted._

_I took a deep breath, "I know that, and I can't force you to do either, this has to be your decision, and I can say is that… I would _very _much like you to learn a few defensive moves. Forget about the car, but as your husband, your creator, and the leader of this coven - "_

"_Really?" She turned to me with angry eyes, "You're going to play the coven leader card?"_

_I sighed, "I guess, that wasn't the best way to put it."_

"_No, it wasn't." Her jaw clenched again._

_At a loss for words that would placate her, I sighed, "I don't what I can say, Esme."_

_Her forehead wrinkled once more in sadness, and she made a move to get up before the rest of her face crumpled, but I gently kept my arms around her._

"_Esme, honey, wait," I protested._

"_What?" She asked, turning back to look at me with pained eyes and a nearly hysterical edge to her voice._

"_I don't want to argue with you," I murmured, "It's killing me."_

_Her face crumpled even more, "I don't want to argue with you either, but I can't do this!"_

"_What is it about defending yourself that you don't want to do?" I wondered._

"_I don't know, the thought of it just makes me feel sick, Carlisle. I can't hurt anyone – I can't hurt them willingly," she clarified. _

_I sighed once more; she was a stubborn thing, my wife. While I thought of something else to say, she took my silence as a bad sign, and began to sob again, murmuring a thousand 'sorry's. _

_I moved my hands up to cup her face, "Esme, love, look at me."_

_Her golden orbs glanced up at me from beneath her eyelashes, not in the wanton way I'd seen her do many a-time before, but in an innocent, and devastating way that made her look like a defenceless little animal. Not bearing to be able to see her like that, I placed a quick kiss on her nose, then either cheek beside my hands, her forehead, her chin, her eyelids, and her nose again – I placed a kiss everywhere – finally ending with her beautiful lips that had turned slightly upward in a smile._

_When I pulled away, she opened her eyes, still upset, but happier than before. I tucked her hair behind her ear, "I am proud of you for standing up for yourself, Esme. I really, really am, but I am asking you to _try_. Just to try. One lesson, and if it's no good, we can forget about it. But love, _you are my life,_ and I would have no reason to continue on if you didn't exist."_

_She eyed me cautiously for a long moment, before sighing, and conceding, "Try. Only try."_

_I smiled, and nodded, nuzzling my nose against hers, "I love you," I murmured._

_She raised a brow, and a small smile crept on to her face, "Even if I didn't agree?"_

_I grinned, "Even if you didn't agree."_

The day following that, she'd wandered down the stairs to see Edward and I in the living room discussing what we'd teach her, and she'd sighed, "Fine. I'll drive the car too, I'll get all the hellish things over at once." This time she said it with sincerity, not anger. Of course, I felt guilty, like I had forced her into doing it, but Edward had given me a shove, and an exasperated glare which plainly said _don't even start._

"You're doing well," I encouraged as we slowly manoeuvred down the clear way.

She didn't reply, but her lack of answer said more than anything she could have spoken – she was not enjoying this one bit. I looked over to her, to see her lips were set in a thin line, but she didn't look at all ferocious in her pale pink hat with her hair in curls, and her lacy white gloves on – she looked far too beautiful than what should be allowed. We hadn't shared much more than a few short kisses since our frightful hunting trip, and I was definitely feeling the effects of that.

The car barely reached 10 miles an hour as she carefully headed forward with hands glued to the wheel, and eyes focussed on the road, while I tried to pull my mind away from her enchanting face.

I cleared my throat; "We'll just go down to near the end of the drive where there's that large patch of flat grass so you can –"

"I know," she sighed, "So I can try to do a U-turn, and then come back. Then we'll repeat. It's not a difficult concept."

I gave her a small smile, suddenly the cab of the Duesenberg had become exceptionally stuffy and rather uncomfortable, and I fought the urge to wind down the window.

"I'm sorry," she murmured after a while, with her eyes still fixed upon the road, "I know I've not been very pleasant lately."

I shook my head, but she wouldn't let me stop her.

"I'm being truthful, I could have done this gracefully after I agreed," she glanced at me out of the corner of her eye, "But I didn't, and I apologise."

I wanted to reach out to grab her hand in comfort but I couldn't quite reach, so I settled for her knee instead, "I love you."

She smiled, and giggled, "I love you too, so much so, that you're really going to need to keep your hands to yourself if you want me to keep driving."

Apologising, I pulled away and folded my hands in my lap, then we fell into a much more comfortable silence.

Esme did very well during her first driving lesson, for the first short while she kept her speed well below 20 miles an hour, but as she gained confidence she pressed the speedometer higher. We were cruising along going a little over forty when I was just about to hint that she could go a little faster, but she began to talk.

"You know, this isn't as bad as I thought it would be," I grinned, but her smile was cheeky, "It's worse," she laughed.

I raised a brow, "How so?"

"It's boring," she sighed.

Shaking my head, I laughed, "Well, you could go a little faster, you know?"

She quirked a brow at me, "Is my snails pace frustrating you?" She wondered.

I shook my head quickly – perhaps too quickly – and tried to redeem myself, "Not at all, it just might be a little more interesting for you if we sped it up a bit."

I heard her exhale, and it sounded a little miffed, but she didn't reply, she just nudged the accelerator a little harder. We were reaching sixty when there was a loud bang from beneath the car, and the wheels began to swerve. Esme froze for a split second before quickly glancing back at me with panic.

"Oh no!" Esme murmured, "What did I do?"

"You didn't do anything love," I said quickly, reflexively reaching out for the wheel, "Just slow the car down, and pull over."

She slammed her foot on the break, sending me forward, and her backward. I wasn't entirely sure if the brake pedal would have survived such pressure from her, but I did know, however, that she left a permanent imprint in the upholstery of the seat, while my head smashed through the glass of the windscreen, and my body left a lofty dent in the dashboard.

"Carlisle!" Esme exclaimed, letting go of the steering wheel to cover her mouth in alarm.

"I'm all right," I told her, straightening up and dusting the glass from my hair, "It's all right."

"Oh, I'm so, so, sorry! I'm so sorry," her eyes were horrified and wide as she stared at me in shock.

I shook my head and smiled, reaching up to take her hands away from her mouth, "It's just a flat tyre, and you panicked. It's all right, love."

I silenced her disagreement by placing a sweet kiss upon her lips, "Other than that minor mishap, you did very well today, but I think this effectively ends our lesson."

"Yes!" She exclaimed with horror, "Because I ruined the car! Oh, no!"

I kept her hands firmly within my own, as I tried to think of a way to calm her, "Love," I murmured, trying to tear her eyes away from the smashed glass, "Esme?" She wouldn't look away so I leaned in and captured her lips with mine once more. That got her attention.

I pulled back, "This is hardly a problem love, it can all be fixed, besides, Edward wanted a new car anyway."

She sighed, "And how will you explain _this_" she gestured at the damage, "To all of the townsfolk who see the car? They'll think I'm a daft and irresponsible woman!"

I shook my head, "I'll simply tell them that I had a late night collision with a deer, no one will look close enough. Does it matter what they think of you, though?"

She shrugged, her eyes falling down to gaze upon our hands in her lap, "I'm awfully afraid of embarrassing you."

I withdrew one of my hands from our tangle, and reached up to place a finger beneath her chin in order to get her eyes to look at me, "Never in a million years will I ever be anything but _proud_ to call you my wife, Esme."

She eyed me doubtfully for a moment, before sighing her surrender, "What do we do about all of this?"

I shrugged, "If you can fix a wreck like that house I bought you, then I can fix a little mishap like this."

"Little mishap," she scoffed.

I merely ignored her, placing a soft kiss on her cheek, before hopping out, "I'll carry it into the garage, we'll fix it in there."

"We'll?" she queried, hopping out of the drivers side, "Carlisle, I don't think I should be trusted to put another finger on this thing, let alone attempt to aid you in _fixing_ it."

Chucking, I reworded my suggestion, "I'll carry it into the garage, and fix it in there, how about that? You can watch and hand me my tools?"

She sighed, but agreed with a nod, "Do you, uh, need a hand carrying it?" She wondered.

I smiled, but shook my head, "I'm surprisingly strong," I winked.

It didn't quite make her laugh, but she smiled and shook her head, as I quickly checked for any prying eyes before lifting the car by the bumper, and working my way to the center. I lifted it high above my head; it was as light as a feather.

Esme led the way to the garage, and opened the doors for me. Edward and I had built the small shack not too far away from the main house, out of the spare wood that Esme didn't need to use. It wasn't the most architectural of buildings, nor was it aesthetically pleasing to the eye, but it served its purpose. It was big enough to fit the one car, and had a few benches down the side, which Esme wandered over to then.

As I placed the car down on the ground – lowering it by it's front wells first, and then stepping backward until it was securely on four wheels – she found a seat upon the benches, and pushed herself gracefully up, with her feet resting on the door handle of the cupboard before looking at me with a demure smile.

"Are you sure you don't want to learn how this is done?" I wondered, taking off my outer shirt so not to get it dirty.

She held out her hands for me to give it to her, and she couldn't resist the temptation to put it up to her nose before she rested it on her lap. The animal inside of me rejoiced every time I caught Esme enjoying a part of me, be it the smell, or the view. Her eyes were not shy and bashful when they met mine, but rather, deep and burning.

"This time," she murmured, resting her chin upon her hands, and giving me a little smirk, "I'm really going to say a definite _no_… and I'm going to sit here and enjoy the view instead."

I chuckled and shrugged, having no complaints, but trying to ignore the distracting way she was gazing a me as I opened a cupboard nearby to look for my tools. I could nearly feel her eyes gazing into my back as I bent down and sifted through the contents of the cupboard, and I was acutely aware of the effects this had on my body. She was dangling her feet slightly beside me, and every so often they gently tapped the wood of the door, the movement was somewhat rhythmic, liking a ticking clock, or a beating heart, and despite my acute senses and flawless memory I'd somehow lost track of what I was looking for. It didn't matter anyway, there was no way that I was getting any work done with her in the small garage so close to me, staring at me with those doe eyes, burning like golden embers of some undying fire, and the hot thick air that filled the spaces between us – the spaces that shouldn't be there. I straightened up, and nudged the door closed with my knee. I took the few steps that were between us, and came to stand in front of her. It had been far too long since we'd been alone together, and in any mood that wasn't upset, or slightly miffed.

"I think," I said in a gruff voice, "That the car can wait."

A little smirk spread across her face, as she placed my shirt to her side, and reached up to wrap her arms around my neck.

"I think," she murmured, her sweet breath flooded my senses, "That the car can wait forever for your attention, but your wife cannot."

"And she should not," I murmured, "I've missed you."

Her eyes softened and her smile grew warm, "I've missed you too. Let's not be angry anymore – whatever it is, it's not worth it."

"We'll disagree again," I pointed out, "I'm certain. Forever is a long time after all"

She shrugged, "I'd be silly to believe that we wouldn't, but that's not what matters. What matters is that they'll always be an end to our disagreements."

I nuzzled her nose, "And we'll always work it out."

She laughed, "That's the plan. And then I can kiss you again."

"And I can tell you I love you," I murmured, gazing into her glowing golden eyes.

She ran a hand through my hair, "And I can say it back."

I took off her hat, and placed kisses along her cheekbone, then murmured in her ear, "And I can actually love you."

She winked, "Now, I'm not saying 'no' to that."

Despite the passion the filled the room mere moments before, despite the tension I felt all throughout my body, when my lips met hers, the kiss was slow and sweet, with an underlying burning of a love that would never be put out.

* * *

_A.N. Thank you to my lovely reviewers once again! I value your reviews so much, even if they are only two or three words long. So if you have a spare moment I would love to know what you think! :D_

_So, how did you like Esme and Carlisle's first real disagreement? Was it believable? Did you like how it was resolved?  
Next chapter we get to see some fighting!_

_Just a quick note, I apologise for anything that seems as though it's misspelt, Australian/New Zealand English is slightly different from British English, and quite different from American English, and seeing as though the story is based in the United States of America and Canada I try to use as much American English as I can, but there are some differences I'm sure I've not picked up on, so I'm sorry about that! Especially if incorrect spelling is your pet peeve! __  
_

_Thanks again for reading! :) Much love x_


	57. Vampire

_Chapter Fifty-Seven: Vampire_

_Halifax, Nova Scotia, March 1922_

_Carlisle_

I watched him intently. I watched the way he crouched close to the ground, leaning slightly forward, resting on the balls of his feet. His face was a mask of concentration his lips were tightly pursed, his brow was a little furrowed, listening to things we couldn't hear. I tried to read his face to see what he'd do next. From the slight crinkle on the bridge of his nose, I could tell he was disagreeing with something, trying to find a reason to what he'd heard, trying to find angle to which he was able to argue against it. He swayed forward lightly, but didn't pounce.

As intently as I watched him, I watched her even closer. She was crouched to the ground also, but she hadn't leaned forward, and she was sitting too far back on her feet, resting on her heels too much. Her face betrayed her reasons why, and reflected her stance perfectly. She was three parts afraid, two parts unhappy, and five parts unwilling to be there, doing that. I had to physically grab a hold of a nearby tree to stop me from running in to defend her as he lunged forward once again. She'd dodged just in time, but he quickly whipped around and got her from behind.

"You can't just pay attention to the first move, Esme, you have to think about what I'll do next," Edward murmured, "Let's go again."

Esme sighed unhappily, and didn't reply, as Edward stepped away from her then they both once again sunk into their crouches.

"Carlisle?" Edward wondered, "Any pointers for Esme?"

Esme's doe eyes, swimming with sadness met mine, and just as I was about to tell Edward that we should forget about our plan and just be prepared to completely defend Esme if a fight should ever come to be, he sighed.

"Carlisle thinks that you should lean forward more. Rest on the balls of your feet, not the heels. Do what you'd do if you were hunting an animal, just keep the teeth out of it."

Esme sighed, and in her sweet voice she wondered,"How can I pretend you're an animal, Edward?"

He shrugged, "Forget about how much you care for me first."

Esme gave him a look that plainly said his suggestion was completely impossible, and he barely refrained from letting out an exasperated sigh – his hand, which had a tendency to grasp the bridge of his nose, twitched at his side, and he took in the tell tale deep breath of the exasperation expression, but stopped himself before he could let it go – his patience was on top form that night. For which, I was exceptionally thankful.

Edward allowed me a brief smile before looking back to Esme, "Again?"

She sighed, and nodded.

"Now, remember, I'm going to lunge first, and you're going to move out of the way, then I won't hesitate before I lunge again, keep moving. We'll get the defence mastered first, and then we can move onto teaching you a few good moves on the offence."

Esme gave him a small nod, leaning forward a little more on the balls of her feet.

Edward eyed her cautiously for a short moment, and then sprung forward – this time she dodged his attack quicker, giving her time to turn around and catch the next lunge, and it almost looked as though they were dancing, but he caught her on the fourth.

The lessons had been progressing as such for nearly two hours, and Esme was still as unwilling as she had been when she agreed.

Edward let her go, and smiled, "That was better! Much better! See how much easier it was to dodge when you were poised to move quickly?"

Esme nodded, but she didn't smile, the sullen expression was glued to her face.

"We'll try again, you did well that time, let's see if we can keep it up." He looked back over to me, "Any other pointers, oh quiet man in the trees?"

I let out a quiet chuckle, "This is going against every instinct in my body, you know. It's not right."

Esme smiled a little at me then, and a small flash of love shot across her eyes.

"You did well that time," I told her tenderly, "It almost looked like you two were dancing. Perhaps while on the defence, instead of a fight, you could think of it more like a dance, and you have to dodge Edward's advances."

"Yes!" Edward agreed enthusiastically, "Because you don't really want to dance with me, you'd rather dance with the dashing Doctor Cullen."

Esme let out a laugh, and nodded, "Okay, that could work."

Edward stepped further away, and they both shrunk down into their crouches, this time Esme balanced perfectly on the balls of her feet, seemingly eager for Edward's attack. He didn't wait as long to spring at her as he had before, but she was ready and waiting for it, she dodged him quickly allowing her long enough to anticipate the angle at which he'd take his next move, as he sprung forward, she would jump to the side, or backward, even jumping over him at one point. They danced around the small field for a good fifteen minutes, each time she narrowly slipped from his grasp with elegant finesse, but as time passed Edward's competitive streak began to outweigh his ability to objectively teach, and he used his gift to hear her next move, catching her midway through a brilliant jump she'd made to attempt a narrow escape.

She let out a little huff as they fell to the ground, but I saw Edward beaming at her, "Esme! That was fantastic!"

She gave him a tight smile, but shook her head, "Not really, you still caught me."

Edward shrugged, "Remember, I have a sixth sense, I'm very good at knowing what you're thinking of doing."

Esme's smile grew as she shook her head fondly at him, "Thank you for going easy on me in the beginning."

He helped her up, and she dusted off the small flecks of snow that had littered the ground since morning. I was holding the hat she had insisted on bringing out to the field with us, as well as the mittens, but I wore her scarf around me neck because her scent lingered upon it's soft fibres. She'd taken up knitting as she said she would, and after a few attempts she had become rather good at it, although there were a pile of broken needles I found in the rubbish one night, and she impishly admitted it was hard to remember her extreme strength sometimes when she grew frustrated at her work. I was surprised she'd never snapped a paintbrush, but she informed me that she'd never got _that_ frustrated while painting.

"Should we try that again?" Edward wondered, "Or shall we move on to some attacking moves."

The way Esme crinkled up her nose is distaste plainly stated that she most certainly did not want to learn how to attack, but it was a necessary part of the procedure. "Do a few more chasing Esme, then move on," I instructed.

Esme sighed as Edward nodded, and walked a short way away from her. "You're doing well, Esme," he pointed out, "Don't give up yet. You'll be well equipped to defend yourself soon enough!"

She gave him a small smile in thanks as they once again slipped into their hunting crouches. Edward lunged immediately taking her a little by surprise, but she quickly manoeuvred her way away from him. He moved quicker than he had before, and I caught a flash of panic across her face. I knew that Edward was in control, and he would never hurt her, but it was easy to forget when he looked so focussed on catching her.

Esme's forehead wrinkled as she began to run out of ways to escape Edward's close calls, but her eyes flashed to the surrounding trees, and a split second later, she was scaling one of the trunks. Edward was by far the fastest of the three of us, but no one could manage the foliage as Esme could, she slipped through small gaps between large branches, dangled, dropped and climbed quicker than one could imagine. Finally she'd found her advantage, for Edward's speed did not trump hers in the trees.

I kept my eyes closely fixed on her, she was a short way ahead of Edward, and I briefly wondered exactly how he was still following her, until I realised that he would have been watching through my eyes, so I fixed my gaze upon him, and soon he jumped from the trees and gave me a glare.

The leaves above were silent, as Esme had stopped moving. Edward turned in circles trying to spot her figure – but she was well disguised, he sniffed the air trying to smell her – but her scent was covering the nearby wood, he even closed his eyes, and I imagined he was trying to hear her internal voice, but from the disgruntled look upon his face when he opened them, I could safely guess he had no luck.

Sighing, he called out, "It looks like you've found your best defence, Esme! No one could find you in those trees."

He was staring at the other side of the field when I caught a potent whiff of her signature smell, meaning she had to be nearby. I looked to the left, and I looked to the right, but I couldn't see her. A small smile grew upon my face as I thought to look up. There, sitting on a branch, perhaps ten feet above me, was the beautiful, cheeky golden eyes, the wayward caramel hair, and the impish grin I'd come to love. I laughed to myself, and held out my arms, grinning widely as she slipped from the branch and fell to me.

"Very well done, my love," I commended her, nuzzling my nose to her cheek, "You seemed to have managed to trick Edward, which is quite the feat."

She laughed, and wrapped her arms around my shoulders, burying her face in my neck, "I wanted a short break, before I had to start learning how to hurt people."

Edward sighed from the field, but her comment made my arms tighten, "It's for your own safety."

"I know," she sighed, "And your peace of mind. That's the only reason I'm doing this, you know."

I let out a chuckle, "In that case, I am very grateful."

I stole a quick kiss from her lovely lips, before setting her back on her feet and letting her go.

She sped back out to the middle of the field, and Edward proceeded to teach her some simple attacking moves that I had once taught him. Days earlier, we'd agreed that my teaching Esme would not be serious or constructive enough, so Edward had happily volunteered himself for the job. He'd laughed about it being some initiation, right of passage thing, which seemed to make him happy. Esme, on the other hand wasn't overly thrilled, I think she hoped I'd be her teacher and she'd be able to easily distract me from the lesson – which was indeed the likely outcome.

After another short while, Edward stepped back from Esme and the two sunk down into their crouches. This time when Edward pounced, he moved slowly, taking short breaks to show Esme her attacking opportunities, and the best way to execute the move. Sometimes they'd stay stationary on the field, other times they'd be tumbling around the space at top speed.

It was during one of those times watching them fly around the clearing tumbling over one another, and intermittently flying through the air, that I was reminded of the time when I taught Edward to fight.

_This was _not_ going to work._

_Why I ever thought teaching an angry, brooding newborn vampire how to fight me was a good idea? I couldn't say. I realised soon after our sparring session began that Edward wasn't willing to fight in the hopes of learning, no, he was willing to fight in the hopes of winning, and as much as I dearly cared for the troubled boy, I wasn't certain I wanted to know exactly how his winning would end for me. Edward watched himself through my eyes, seeing every move I would make just as I did. He was faster, and stronger than me, meaning I was at a giant disadvantage. My only one advantage was that I knew the area, but with his gift, he did too. Naturally, in a fight, I would strategise – I'd plan everything in advance – but with Edward, I had to resort to the opposite of that. _

_As he lunged for me once more I dodged to the left at the last second, and sprinted away from him, wondering how on Earth I could distract him, and fill his mind with enough garbage to hide my strategies in. I scaled the trunk of a tree with him hot on my heels, and I had a brainwave. If I imagined him in a different position, or a tree taller or shorter than it was, surely he'd be confused, and further more, if he was unable to understand my internal monologue, would I be at less of a disadvantage?_

_Although my ideas were not anywhere near stellar, I ran with them. Switching to Latin and reimagining the landscape, I jumped from the tree, and I was running before my feet even hit the ground. I knew there was a lake, which generally froze in winter not far from where I was. Running forward, I continued playing mind games that somehow seemed to slow him down. As we raced toward the lake though, Edward caught up – getting used to the tricks in my head. No matter how hard I tired to outrun him, Edward would always be faster than me, so I was unbelievably thankful that the fringe of the bushes before the lake was only meters away. I barrelled through them paying no attention to the ice beneath my feet so not to alert him to the change. I turned around to see him bursting through the line of bushes, making a permanent hole in the foliage, but when he landed on the ice he wasn't prepared to be met with the slippery surface. He momentarily lost his footing, and jumped awkwardly so not to slip. It was then that I took my chance to pounce. I tackled him, wrapping my arms around his torso, and pushed him backward to the sound of smashing stone and the creaking wood of the line of trees we took down. _

_As a heap on the ground I adjusted my hold so he couldn't escape, "Check mate."_

_The sound of my voice snapped him out of his newborn rage, and I caught the edge of sheepish grin. "I apologise," he murmured in a low voice, "I think I let myself get carried away."_

_I grinned at let him go, at just under twelve months old, Edward was still experiencing the effects of being a newborn, uncontrollable mood swings included, but he was slowly regaining control of himself quicker after he lost it. _

_We dusted off our ripped clothing, and shared a grin before running off back toward the lake._

"_That was quite a good strategy," Edward called, "You confused me for a while, it was strange two be seeing two different views of things. Although I knew you were tricking me, and I was seeing the correct version through my own eyes, my brain still doubted what I was seeing. It was harder to run, to jump, and that _ice!_" Edward let out a stunned laugh, "That was good."_

_I grinned, "I must admit for a moment there, I thought you were going to catch me to kill me."_

_Edward's lack of immediate reply only confirmed my worst fears. He cleared his throat awkwardly, "Well, I can't assure you that I wouldn't, I just think I was unprepared for the feral rage that came with letting myself go. This time I think I'll be able to handle it better, I know what to expect."_

_I nodded, "Shall we practise on the ice?"_

_Edward came to an abrupt stop at the edge of the lake where he previously bounded through the bush, as I kept going straight onto the slippery surface. I looked to Edward to see he wore a small smile._

_I raised a brow when his eyes met mine, and then he nodded, "Yes, I think we shall. I don't like being at a disadvantage, I think it's a good idea for me to learn how to skate and fight at the very same time."_

_I laughed and sunk down into my crouch, "Now remember, don't lose yourself."_

"Now, remember," Edward told Esme as they broke apart, "Lose yourself a little. Give in to the wild side, don't worry about me, I can handle it. Treat me as though I am your prey."

Esme sighed in discontent once again, disliking the offensive moves even less than the defensive ones, but truthfully, I didn't expect anything less.

Edward moved away slightly, measuring the distance, but he somehow wasn't prepared for what happened next. As soon as he turned around Esme hit him with a bang. He fell backward and froze with shock; Esme was back up on her feet, in her crouch in a fluid moment, while Edward remained on the ground. I grinned at her, not that she noticed; her eyes were trained on his face. Suddenly his body started convulsing, as he began to laugh. I left my spot by the trees and bounded over to Esme, who was straightening up with a slightly amused smile on her face.

"Now I can honestly say, I didn't see that one coming!" Edward pushed himself up, and brushed off the snow, and then glanced over to me, "She hid her intentions beneath a melody – distracting me."

I grinned at Esme, and wrapped an arm around her, "That was cunning, love."

Esme shrugged, "You know, I'm getting awfully tired of this fighting business, I figured that if I showed you both that I had been learning, you'd be more willing to cut the lesson short."

Edward shook his head, "We have to keep going; you're getting hold of this."

Esme sighed dramatically, "Can I please just claim that my corset is too tight and I'm feeling faint?"

I chuckled and kissed her temple, "You hate corsets."

Edward rolled his eyes, "You're a vampire, we don't get faint."

"Well I know _that_. Thank you Sherlock Holmes for that wonderful insight." Oddly, sarcasm was strangely becoming on my tiny wife, it made her look feisty.

Edward flicked me a glare and sighed, "What do you think, Carlisle? Should we carry her home and let her spend the rest of her night lazing on a chaise looking pale, and acting frail?"

I considered it for a moment, and then sighed, "No, but I do think it's time to call it a night. Esme, you've done very well, and I'm proud of you, but if you don't want to do anymore, we'll respect that."

Edward grimaced for a moment longer before giving in with a shrug, "But we're continuing this soon. Yes?"

I looked to Esme, who gave a resigned sigh and agreed. Edward smiled and ran off to do a few laps around the meadow, just because he liked to run, as I turned to Esme.

"Allow me, my love," I murmured, holding out her knitted items and moving to fix them back in place. I slipped on her mittens, and secured her hat before removing her scarf from around my neck, and placing in on hers.

She inhaled deeply and smiled, "It suited you, you know. Even in it's pink glory."

I chuckled, "Why thank you, I might have to wear it to work one day then."

She grinned up at me before reaching for my hand with hers. We turned and made our way to the edge of the forest, waiting briefly for Edward to join us before taking off.

"I say," Edward called out from somewhere in the dark, with a cheeky tone to his voice, "Does it make you feel old, Carlisle," I had to bite back a laugh, "To think that up until roughly a hundred years before your birth, the world still believed that the sole purpose of the brain was to cool the heart, just as Aristotle said?"

"Why yes," I grinned, "It actually does. Where does this come from?"

I heard the rustle of his jacket material as he shrugged, "Running gives me time to ponder some sweet questions of this world."

The next minute he was running so fast, he was gone, leaving Esme and I behind to share a look, and a little laugh.

The morning was still dark when we reached the house, and Edward excused himself to the piano, while Esme wandered upstairs to run herself a bath, and I disappeared to my study. We'd finally finished the plumbing in the downstairs bathroom, and the upstairs one didn't take us long at all to do. Esme rejoiced in the luxury of running water, something I vowed she would never have to go without again.

When I arrived in my study I saw the small pile of yesterday's mail sitting upon the corner of my desk, which I never got round to opening. On top there was a small envelop for a Mrs. C Cullen (something I would never tire of seeing), which looked to be written in Elsie's hand. I smiled at the thought of the friendship Esme had been able to maintain with my ex-colleague's wife despite the distance. Underneath the small envelope was a larger A4 package. Moving to sit on my desk chair, I tore off the brown paper wrapping and grinned upon seeing the ninth volume of the Journal of the American Medical Association's 78th issue.

Eagerly I flicked open the cover and I was lost to the world of science as I sat behind my desk with my nose buried deeply in my new journal. The first article in the journal discussed the increased danger of benzene poisoning in the industries. I'd treated a patient with such poisoning once before, in Chicago, but he'd had far too much of the nasty stuff for me to be able to do anything, although I was able to prevent a cardiac arrest, the poor soul would suffer from brain damage for the remainder of his life – it taught a very harsh lesson to his co-workers, to be very careful of what they consumed. I briefly skimmed over an article on the antiscorbutic value of dehydrated fruits, although remedies such as these were sometimes useful in my work, it was not something I found myself getting overly thrilled about. I puzzled slightly on the preliminary report on the collection and the preservation of human milk, but got deeply engrossed in a lovely article on the etiology of orthostatic albuminuria. I'd treated (or perhaps, attempted) to treat a woman with this very condition a long time ago, of course back then I hadn't a clue what it was, and the young woman died not long after I met her, of what I figured out later, was kidney failure. I made a mental note to follow the particular researcher in future to see if he really could discern the cause of excess albumin in the urine. The next article I flicked to was even more entrancing! It was something I had never come across before, a rare novelty! The paper discussed congenital atresia of the esophagus, and although I would never wish such a condition on a child, I did hope it would be something I was able to see in the near future. The procedure to reconnect both ends of the oesophagus didn't seem all that tricky, as morbid as it was, I found myself excited at the thought of one day perhaps performing it.

I was midway through an article discussing the links between obesity and diabetes when Esme floated into the room like a deity. She flicked a smile my way before settling in front of the window that looked out over her glasshouse. She wore one of her silk dresses that seemed to flow off her shoulders like a waterfall, until it pooled on the ground in beautiful waves of soft, smooth material.

I fished for the letter on my desk, "You have mail from Elsie, by the looks of it, my dear."

She turned around to smile at me, dashing to the front of my desk, and grabbing the paper with a quiet, "Thank you."

She returned to the window to read her letter as I tried to let the world of diabetes and the incredible medical discovery of insulin. It had only been just over a month since the failed treatment of Leonard Thompson, and the absolute successful treatment just twelve days later. Medicine had not quite seen anything of the sort for a very, very long time, and after a rich history suffering from diabetes, human kind could rejoice in having finally begun to conquer a major source of –

"You're wearing your astounded expression again," Esme chuckled fondly from the window. I looked up to be greeted by her brilliant smile, "What have they found now?"

I smiled, and closed the book, "Oh, I'm just still revelling over insulin."

Her eyes swam with love as she watched me stand up, and make my way over to her, "Do you think it will be readily available soon so you can give it to a needy patient and see the effects for yourself?" She wondered, reaching out for my hands.

I nodded, "The Eli-Lilly Company offered assistance when they first published last year, with that kind of funding, and those resources, they'd be silly not to accept. I wouldn't be surprised if it was being mass-produced this time next year. There's still a long way to go, but –"

"But they've already done the hardest of the work?" She wondered.

I nodded, "Exactly."

She reached up to stroke my face, still staring at me with that same tenderness, "I do so love to see you like this," she murmured, as a door closed in the distance, and muted the piano music somewhat, "So happy and excited."

I leaned into her gentle caress, and smiled even wider as she stood up on her tiptoes to give me a sweet kiss. When she pulled away, she turned around to gaze back out the window.

"Thank you for letting me stop practise for tonight, Carlisle," she murmured, in a quiet voice.

I slipped my hands around her waist, and found the bare skin of her shoulder so I could kiss it, "As much as I want you to learn how to fight, I won't push you. I've come to see, more than ever, over the passed few days that marriage is about compromise. I'll not force your hand, but I will try to guide it wherever I feel that I can. You'll do the same?" I wondered, trailing my nose from her shoulder to a soft spot beneath her ear.

She exhaled, "I'm doing what?" She teased, then laughed, "Of course I will, all though I'm not sure I can think of anything you need guidance with."

I sighed, "We both know I'm far from infallible, I think time will show that I may need your guidance more than you need mine."

She shifted in my embrace, turning around to gaze at me with confusion, "I'm not sure I follow you?"

I smiled gently at her soft face, "I have a lot to learn from your loving heart, you know."

She shook her head with a tender smile, "Your heart is more loving than mine."

I let out a breathy laugh into her skin, before placing another kiss there, "I can't bring myself to believe that."

Her smile grew and she relaxed back into my embrace. Her eyelids fluttered closed, as I held her tighter, and sprinkled her skin with soft kisses.

"How about," she murmured in a voice just above a breath, "We hold hands though everything, and never let go."

"I think that sounds like true teamwork," I grinned, and placed a kiss on her cheek, then moved my lips to her ear, "I think that sounds _perfect_."

* * *

_A.N. Thanks for the reviews everyone! I love to hear what you think :) I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and if I don't post again before Friday (it means that I've probably spent all my time at the beach) - Merry Christmas! I hope you all have a lovely and safe holiday!_

And to my lovely guest Cline - that is my plan :) Thank you, and I'm glad you're enjoying the story!

Much love everyone xx


	58. Nightmares From the Past (Part One)

_Chapter Fifty-Eight: Nightmares From The Past_ _(Part One)_

_New York City, New York, March 1922_

_Esme_

"For the umpteenth time, boys, I'm fine, as I have been all day!" I murmured as we wandered down the busy Manhattan Street, making our way to the Harlem River. "I'm not about to do anything silly. I'm completely in control."

"It just that, in a busy place like this, the consequences –" Edward murmured.

A single look was all it took for his remark to float into the loud noises of the bustling streets. It was mid-afternoon, and we were making our way back from the New York City Botanical Gardens, which were located over the Harlem River in the Bronx. The city was more magnificent that I could have ever imagined. I was a country person though and through, small towns, sprawling forests, wide open spaces – they were the landscapes of my heart, but the chaos, and unpredictability of the biggest city I had ever found myself in, was new and exciting.

The gardens, which were nearly a three-hour walk away, were absolutely beautiful. I had been excited to see the Enid A. Haupt Conservatory, partly because I was hoping to gather some inspiration for my own one at home, and partly because Carlisle had never seen it. He was last in New York during the mid to late 1800s, and the conservatory didn't open until 1902. It was safe to say that the gardens did not disappoint. The cherry blossom trees had turned pink for the Spring, and Carlisle remarked that they 'Reminded him of Japan,' the daffodils near the cherry blossoms were like suns on stalks, and I watched a few young children being scorned for picking them just like the young child inside of me wanted to. Of course, the conservatory was by far my most favourite part. It was large, wrapped around two beautiful outdoor ponds that had waterlilies floating peacefully on the still waters. Filled with exotic plants, it did indeed give me a great deal of inspiration for my own conservatory at home, making it a true highlight of the trip. Mind you, I had many, many highlights of the trip; in fact, the whole trip was a highlight.

Carlisle had wasted no time in showing me the city, all though many of his days were taken up at conferences, the nights were free for us to roam around. Carlisle had planned what places he would like to take me, and suggested others to Edward, for I knew very little about the city and what it held. We spent hours upon hours at art galleries and museums. Edward or Carlisle would murmur in nearly inaudible voices stories they knew form Carlisle's past involving beautiful artworks or remarkable artefacts. We went to many gardens, and shopped at stores bigger than I ever imagined existed. Edward tried to convince us to attend a symphony, and a motion picture at the theatre, but Carlisle didn't think it the best idea, although my thirst control was good, Carlisle and I agreed not to push it quite that far – so Edward attended alone. I absolutely adored Central Park, so we spent a great deal of time there, as I sketched everything I saw that inspired me. We visited Times Square, and Wall Street, and we travelled from Manhattan, to Brooklyn, to the Bronx, to Staten Island, to Queens. Anything I wanted to do, we did it. It was, in short, incredible.

"You enjoyed the gardens this morning?" Carlisle wondered as we made our way from 129th Street East onto Madison Avenue.

I nodded, "The colours, the fragrances, absolutely everything was beautiful." I looked up to him beaming, "Thank you for taking me."

"You're very welcome, my dear," he said, patting my arm that was woven through his, "Spring is always the best time to visit gardens," Carlisle smiled, "Everything is in bloom."

Edward walked along beside us, humming an upbeat jazzy number to himself quietly, happy to be in the city once again. He grinned down at me, looking very dapper in his 'city suit' and matching hat.

"Why thank you," he murmured in reply, "If I may be so bold, ma'am, I must say, that particular shade of yellow is very lovely on you."

I grinned at him, laughing, "Thank you, very much."

"And I do like your hat, the flowers are highly appropriate considering today's occasion."

I laughed, "Oh, stop it."

He pretended to look offended, "Am I not allowed to compliment my mother, now?"

I merely grinned at him, as we continued making our way back to the Park I so greatly adored. Just across the road from Central Park, was the Plaza Hotel, the place that we called home for the week.

Carlisle smiled and nodded to all whose eyes lingered upon us for too long – even those with rich, coloured skin. Some smiled and nodded back, others merely shook away the daze and carried on as though we were just a figment of their imaginations. I could sympathize with them completely, seeing a vampire for the first time was an unusual experience.

After a short time in the park, we soon made our way back to our hotel, and up to our rooms, so I could have enough time to get ready.

On the last night of our stay we were expected to attend a dinner where Carlisle would meet (and undoubtedly charm) some very wealthy and influential men, who were prospective hospital and research funders. It was referred to it as the 'Doctors and Donors Dinner,' or the 'Funders Dinner,' and to be held at one of the most expensive, and beautiful hotels in the whole of Manhattan – the Biltmore.

To say I was nervous would be a large understatement. I'd never been to anything of the sort before, being raised on the farm, I was taught how to cook and to clean, not how to help my husband charm a very large sum of money out of a wealthy, intimidating man.

I was standing in the empty bedroom of the hotel, staring at myself in the mirror, silently thanking my flawless skin, and unnatural beauty, for it would undoubtedly make tonight easier, when I heard quiet scratching of a pen on paper, followed by Carlisle's footsteps approaching the door from Edward's adjoining room.

He knocked gently.

"Come in," I murmured, quickly reaching for my hairbrush to run through my brown tresses.

Carlisle's friendly smile peeked through the small gap in the door, before he pushed it wider open, and entered. He was half-dressed in his tails – his black trousers made his skin seem even more white, but his half-done up dress shirt softened the stark contrast.

Carlisle subtly looked me up and down, but standing with a dressing gown covering my underwear, I was not a sight to behold.

"You look beautiful," he murmured softly, "As always."

I raised an amused brow, "I'm not even dressed."

His grin grew bigger, "I know."

I shook my head and laughed, turning back around to look in the mirror, and began to fix my hair.

Carlisle sighed from behind me, and leaned up against the wall.

My eyes flickered to him in the mirror, "Something the matter?" I wondered.

He gave a half shrug, but offered no reply. He looked sad.

Putting the hairbrush down, I fixed him my most reproving look, "Oh come on, you can tell me. Do you have to tease it out of you?"

He laughed, and shook his head, "No," he sighed, "I was just having a moment. I'm sometimes upset knowing that more than half the women attending this event tonight will have spent the afternoon getting ready with their ladies maid, never having to worry about doing their hair, picking their clothes out, you know."

I smiled at his sweet heart, "Who needs a ladies maid when they have you?" I teased.

He laughed once more, and pushed away from the wall, coming over to me, "Is that an invitation for me to brush your hair? You know, I've always wanted to try."

I laughed, but agreed. "I warn you," he murmured, reaching around for the delicate object, "I may very well make your hair look like a haystack."

"Then I shall have to make the haystack fashionable." We laughed together for a few moments, as Carlisle gingerly ran the brush through my long hair. It was never an easy feat to brush curls, but I was one of the lucky ones, my hair was a strange mixture of curly-but-wavy, meaning brushing was nearly as simple as it would have been for a woman with straight sheets of silky hair. Carlisle moved slowly, with the kind of care and skill singular to a surgeon.

"Edward apologises for eavesdropping in your head, and then talking to me about it," he murmured, his eyes meeting my curious ones in the mirror, "But he wanted me to assure you that you've nothing to worry about tonight."

I sighed, "I'm not sure I know quite how to act. Edward was born into a life that ensured he'd see at least few of these kind of parties, but the only parties I ever went to were the ones I planned with my pet pigs."

Carlisle laughed, "I'm sure they were more enjoyable than all the ones I've ever attended."

I nodded, and carried on, "Then there's you, you've been to millions of these."

He shrugged, "And I've gotten better through practise, as with everything. You have to remember, love, that when I first attended a party like this, I was very nervous, for who was I to be mingling with powerful people and old money, but a ministers son from the sixteen hundreds?"

I gave him a small smile, "I didn't really consider that."

"These parties are things that you just get used to. Imagine in one hundred years, you'll be so accustomed to these, you'll not even give it a second thought."

"True," I conceded, "I'm still nervous though."

He smiled, "And you're allowed to be, but remember, Edward and I will be with you at all times."

I nodded, "And if it gets too much, I'll say, 'I do apologise, you'll have to excuse me, I'm suddenly feeling very faint,' and then I'll leave and you two will follow."

He laughed, "You do a very good impression of a damsel in distress."

My laughter joined in with his, as he reached around me once again to put the hairbrush down, "There, no haystacks in sight."

His hands rested on my hips as I smiled at our reflections in the mirror. Two of the most beautiful beings stared back at me, with four bright golden eyes, and two happy smiles. His blonde hair was combed back perfectly, and my brown locks were pushed aside, flowing effortlessly over one shoulder. I pulled my eyes away from the mirror and turned around to smile at him, "Thank you," I whispered.

He beamed at me, "You're always welcome, love."

As though magnets attracted them, our lips found each other in a sweet, but loving kiss. If we weren't expected at the party, I would have kissed him for longer, but we pulled away for propriety's sake… and Edward's.

"Now, would you like help with that dress of yours?" He wondered.

I laughed, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, and shaking my head. He held me to him tightly, and it was heaven in the small, peachy coloured bedroom.

"Perhaps I might require your assistance with the tricky zip."

When we pulled away, he led me over to one of the two single beds that filled the room, where the rest of his attire was laid out next to mine. Silently we went about our own business getting into our clothes, and he did indeed have to help me with the zip I couldn't reach. Then, after the few more minutes it took me to arrange my hair atop my head in the appropriate finger waves under a pearl encrusted headband, I hung my long strands of pearls around my neck, and went to stand with Carlisle in front of the mirror. Now, dressed in my shin length, navy blue evening dress, with it's A-line neck, short sheer sleeves, drop waist, and few sequins, above-the-elbow gloves, pearls around my neck and sleek hair-do, I looked deserving of the earlier description he'd praised me with.

"Now every woman in the room with be envying you tonight, my love," Carlisle murmured from behind me, looking better than a Greek God in his formal wear.

I grinned, "Because I'm married to you?" I wondered.

He chuckled, "No, but all the men will be envying me because I'm married to _you_."

We shared a quick kiss before Carlisle helped me into my coat, and shrugged into his, and we then went to find Edward, who happened to be waiting for us in the hallway.

It was dark when we made it down the stairs and out onto the street. The Biltmore Hotel was on Madison Avenue, about ten minutes away. It wasn't far enough away to warrant taking the car, so we decided to walk – we didn't have to worry about any dangerous people anyway, we were indestructible. The walk to the Biltmore was nice; the roads were still bustling with life, even despite the darkness having fallen. Everybody seemed as though they had somewhere to be, and no time to get there. I soon came to find that the most prevalent sound in the New York City nightlife was laughter… and yelling, or perhaps the city folk were just very loud. Carlisle kept my arm securely wrapped in his as we wandered down the street. Edward walked by my other side with a slight jig in his step, ever excited to be there.

"Nice night for it!" He murmured, tipping his hat to some passer bys.

As we approached the next corner I caught a glimpse of the gigantic Biltmore Hotel, towering over all of its neighbours from the corner. Cars rolled down the road, as people quickly ducked across the street holding hands, and laughing with each other. To human ears the bustling road and the laughter would be the only things that could be heard, but not to us. Aside from the conversing voices in and outside of the buildings, there was a great deal of music wafting from the surrounding buildings. There was one down the other end of the street was erupting with brass instruments, trumpets, saxophones, clarinets, trombones, you name it – they had it. With the upbeat piano, matching drumbeat, double bass, harmonica, and rough, bluesy vocals, the jazz music was hard to miss – as was the smell of cigarette smoke and illegal alcohol.

"Did you know," Edward murmured as Carlisle quickly checked that the road was clear, before gently tugging on my arm, and helping me dash across the street at human speed, "That jazz music is what happens when European and African music meets?"

I shook my head, "I heard jazz for the first time when I lived in Milwaukee with my cousin, never in Ohio, but it wasn't quite like that."

Edward grinned, "The man singing is African American. In Chicago and New York, we have the real deal."

"His voice is lovely," I murmured, "There are a thousand different emotions in there, but he sounds like he's having so much fun."

"I don't think it would do any wonders to my reputation, but we could go to that party instead?" Carlisle jokingly offered as we approached the doors of the Biltmore, making Edward and I chuckle.

At the door a doorman greeted us with small bow and welcomed us inside. Once inside, a large man with a fake, yet professional smile hidden beneath a moustache, approached us, "Good evening, guests!" He boomed, "Welcome to The Biltmore! Is it safe to assume you three are here in attendance of the Doctors and Donors Dinner?" He wondered, absentmindedly gesturing for a member of his staff to take our coats.

Carlisle nodded, "Indeed we are."

"Very well, very well, and welcome you are. The event is being held in our ballroom. I shall get young Joseph," the man looked around for whom he mentioned and found a stunned young man standing near a very tall indoor plant, "To take you up to the ballroom on the 22nd floor."

The young man – Joseph – was still standing by the plants gaping at us, which frustrated the older man. He excused himself muttering something about 'Joseph's first day' and managed to bring the young man out of his daze. He approached us cautiously, cleared his throat and apologised.

"My name is Joseph, and I will be operating your elevator tonight. If you'll please follow me."

Joseph – dressed in a blue uniform with jet-black hair and shallow brown eyes – eyed us cautiously for another moment before turning on his heel and marching away.

We three followed him after sharing an amused look. The elevator was located toward the end of the lobby, Joseph pressed a small button near the doors and waited silently for them to open. When, with a chirpy 'Ding!' the elevator arrived, Joseph ushered us inside with a timid smile. We settled in the back of the confined space and I took a large gup of fresh air before the human joined us. I'd never been in such a confined space with a delectable, and warm human before. I tired to focus on everything aside from the scalding fire in my throat.

Carlisle looked down at me and smiled, "I've never actually been in one of these before. Rather incredible aren't they?" Knowing he was trying his best to distract me, I focussed on the excited light swimming in his eyes, and nodded. If I hadn't been so sorely tempted by the human, I would have been far more interested in Carlisle's excitement for his first elevator ride. Of course, there was an elevator at our own hotel, but we had opted to take the stairs, to avoid the same temptation I was fighting then. Joseph stood in front of us, occasionally flicking us each a curious and cautious glance. By the amused glint in Edward's eye I could tell that he was very much enjoying himself with all the thoughts in the small room. No doubt, Carlisle was trying to discern exactly how the machine was working, and I was trying not to lunge at poor Joseph, and Joseph himself looked to be conflicted as to how he felt about us – I was surprised Edward wasn't in stiches.

Riding in the elevator was the most peculiar sensation; it was almost as though when we began to travel upwards, we left half of ourselves on the first floor. I focussed on Carlisle the entire time, watching his joyful smile and excited eyes. Thankfully, the ride did not take a large amount of time, and even though it was uncomfortable to be without breath for the short amount of time, I managed exceptionally well.

It was a great relief when the elevator gave another cheery 'Ding!' and arrived at the 22nd floor.

Joseph ushered us out, and led us to the ballroom, where, after Carlisle tipped him most generously, he offered a timid smile and stuttered his wishes for us to have a pleasant night.

The ballroom was alive with the most spectacular party I had ever seen – admittedly I hadn't been to many parties at all. The room itself was grand, with chandeliers four times the size of me, and large round tables specifically placed around a large dance floor in the middle of the room. On both sidewalls, balconies were home to even more tables, but few people sat at them. Most of the room's occupants were either milling around conversing by the edges of the dance floor, or slowly moving in couples to the sweet music that filled the hall from the band up the back. The room was so busy that nobody looked up as we entered, but an attendant came to greet us.

He stood tall and proud in his smart uniform, and with one hand behind his back he bowed in greeting, after asking for our name he led us to a table near the corner of the room by the window and informed us that dinner would take place in two hours.

When he left us by the table Carlisle turned to me, "Would you like to dance before we mingle?"

I grinned and nodded with delight, so he offered me his arm, and with Edward in tow, we wandered over to the dance floor, "You did very well in the elevator, my love," he murmured quietly for my ears only, "I'm proud of you."

I smiled timidly, "Thank you, it wasn't easy, but I'm happy I managed to resist."

Before we could make it to the dance floor a large man I recognised as Carlisle's boss, Doctor Denton – a short man with a nearly baldhead, and a large stomach – stopped us.

He loudly fawned over us for a short while, before pulling us away to meet friends, and old colleagues of his. Carlisle had said earlier that the chances of him seeing someone he'd previously worked with were slim, but he always had many cover-up stories ready in case some ex-colleague appeared. Thankfully, we didn't run into anyone who knew us.

The doctors were generally all good-natured men with amicable wives on their arms, some had other members of their family, just as we had Edward, and others had chosen to attend alone. There were some older doctors whose people skills left a great deal to be desired, and others who stared at me for just a little too long, but I was constantly at Carlisle's side, on his arm, so their attention grew subtle after not too long. The wives we met were all different, some sparked quiet conversation, complimenting my dress, or my hair, commenting on how nice the party was, or sharing stories about having doctors as husbands, while others smiled shy smiles, or forced their scowls into slightly nicer expressions for a fraction of a second.

Doctor Denton led us around the room, murmuring comments to Carlisle such as, "This ones a funder, suck up to him," or "He's just a doctor, don't bother," even "Ignore that one, you don't want him leeching onto you for the rest of the night," but no matter what Doctor Denton said, Carlisle applied the same amount of kindness and charm to each and every conversation he engaged in, making everyone whom he met warm to him. His quiet charisma I'd always admired made it easy for him to befriend people, and discuss his accomplishments without ever sounding proud or as though he was boasting.

"Ah!" Doctor Denton announced at one point (he was a very loud and boisterous man, Carlisle's boss) walking up to a small group of conversing partygoers, with open arms, "If it isn't our neighbouring friends from Quebec!" One couple of the group, the grey-haired man, and the middle-aged brunette, looked up with friendly smiles, while the other two, a young male, and his young blonde companion, wore surprised expressions most likely because of Doctor Denton's enthusiastic greeting.

"Doctor Denton!" The eldest, the professional looking man with grey hair that had been combed with precision, exclaimed in a lightly accented voice, "I was wondering when I would get to see you." His eyes flickered to Carlisle, Edward and I, momentarily flashing with surprise before settling with delight, "Is this your new doctor I've been hearing all about?" He wondered.

Doctor Denton nodded, "Yes indeed! This here is Doctor Carlyle, his wife, Mrs. Carlyle, and Mrs. Carlyle's brother, Mr. Anthony. Collin, this here is Doctor Harrison, he's head of staff at Montreal General."

Carlisle and Doctor Harrison shook hands, before he placed a gentle kiss upon my glove, and then shook Edward's.

"Mrs. Harrison," Doctor Denton bowed, "Ever pleasant to see you, might I say you are looking absolutely beautiful tonight, might even be the most beautiful in the room!"

The middle-aged brunette smiled, but shook her head, "Thank you, sweet doctor, but I must disagree, I think young Doctor Carlyle's wife takes that title tonight. A pleasure to meet you all," she smiled, holding her hand out to Carlisle, and then Edward. Mrs. Harrison wore a burgundy dress, with thick shoulder straps, and a respectable amount of glimmering beads. She wore a thin, matching headdress atop her sleek black hair, and her grey eyes were kind.

"Ah!" Exclaimed Doctor Harrison before I could thank his wife, "How rude of me! I must introduce my newest member of staff, Doctor Philippe, and his fiancée Miss Beaulieu."

"Non!" Exclaimed Miss Beaulieu in a heavily accented voice, "C'est Marguerite! I do not see why we must 'ave such formalities, we are amoung friends, oui?"

Miss Beaulieu was very tall, perhaps five-foot-ten, with ice blue eyes, and very fine features. She wore a sky blue dress that was suspended from her neck by a single golden loop. Her partner, Doctor Philippe had ginger hair and hazel eyes, and his ears had suddenly turned bright red.

He laughed awkwardly, "Marguerite is new to this scene; she's not accustomed to it quite yet."

Miss Beaulieu's delicate blonde brow furrowed, "C'est not true, I just do not agree wiz zee need to call friends by zeir surnames. Eet does not make sense, does eet?"

Carlisle smiled warmly at the disgruntled woman, "I digress Miss Marguerite, I have often found myself thinking the exact same thing. It is a pleasure to meet you both."

The men shook hands and settled into a comfortable conversation as Mrs. Harrison, and Miss Beaulieu included me in theirs.

"Marguerite and I were just discussing her journey to Canada, from France," Mrs. Harrison smiled.

"Oh?" I murmured, "You're not French Canadian?"

Marguerite shook her head, "Non, I was born and raised in Champagne, my fat'er was a merchant who sold feesh caught from my uncle in Montpellier. I met Jacques in Paris not long after I debuted. 'e is so charming, and 'andsome, like your 'usband! 'e ees sweet, oui?"

I smiled, "Oui."

"Oooh! Parlez vous francais?"

I gave a slight shrug, "Uh, un peu."

She laughed a delighted laugh, "But zat ees better than none, ees it not?"

We three conversed for a short while; Marguerite was an excitable, and very young thing, while Mrs. Harrison was tolerant and patient. It was safe to say the conversation didn't get boring.

During a lull in the conversation, a velvet voice was cleared behind us. We turned around to see Edward grinning sheepishly, "I apologise for interrupting ladies, but according to my sister's dancing card, I should be twirling her around the dance floor."

"Oh!" I smiled at Edward, and then turned back to the ladies, "If you'll excuse me, it was a pleasure to meet you both."

They nodded and bid us farewell, Mrs. Harrison made sure to instruct Edward not to let me go, and then we parted with a laugh.

Edward guided me through the maze of party attendants until we arrived on the dance floor, where we quickly matched the slow tempo of the delicate music.

"Having fun?" Edward wondered.

I nodded, smiling contentedly, "Miss Beaulieu was very… refreshing."

Edward laughed and shook her head, "If Doctor Philippe wasn't so keen on her, he'd be embarrassed, but he adores her dearly."

"That's always good to hear," I murmured.

He nodded, "Are you tired of he attention yet, though?"

I cocked my head to the side, "The attention?" I wondered.

Edward let out a laugh, "You really haven't noticed?"

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously at the boy, and shook my head. He spun me around so our arms were crossed in front of my body and murmured, "Everybody is staring at you."

He was right – well, mostly right, for I did believe that the great number of patrons who lined the edge of the dance floor staring our way were not simply focussed on _me_, but rather, the both of us.

"I have to disagree with that," Edward grinned, before spinning me back around to dance normally, "All the men, and most of the women are watching you."

"Why?" I wondered daftly, of course, it was because we were vampires…

Edward laughed, "Do you see the woman in the orange dress standing behind my left shoulder?"

My eyes quickly glanced her way, and fell upon a woman, perhaps a little older than me, with mousy brown hair and a burnt orange dress, that had be dotted with an unfortunately garish amount of sequins, "She wants your hair," he murmured with a grin.

He spun us around on the dance floor away from the woman in the orange dress, "Now, do you see the blonde on the arm of the man with the glass spectacle?"

I caught sight of an envious looking blonde to Edward's right, and nodded. She was wearing a sky blue dress with intricate beading, but in an unfortunate cut, a little too big perhaps, which made her look like she was swimming in it.

"Unsurprisingly, she wants your dress."

Edward spun us around again, to a part of the dance floor that was the least crowded, "Now, do you see the woman sitting on the chairs behind me?" He wondered.

My eyes drifted to a woman who sat at the back of the room by herself, sipping on water in a wine glass, wearing a blood red, crimson dress with chocolate brown hair, and angry brown eyes. If it hadn't been for the look on her face, she would have been one of the most beautiful in the room.

"And she… well, she wants your husband," Edward grinned.

"Well," I murmured, smiling, "I'd better keep my eyes on her, then, hadn't I?"

Edward laughed, and spun us away once more, "And that's just the women, you should hear how many men are tirelessly searching for your dance card."

"That is what those who want to dance with me write their names on, yes?"

Edward nodded, "Yes, but no one can seem to find yours."

"I didn't even know I had one," I laughed, "And where exactly is it?"

Edward grinned mischievously, "I may have nicked it and tucked it safely away in my breast pocket. I assumed that you'd not appreciate being so close to a human."

"You assumed correctly," I beamed, "And thank you."

He nodded, and then we danced quietly for a moment, before Edward looked down at me wearing a small smile, "Speaking of humans, how's the thirst?" He wondered.

"I'm trying my best not to think about it," I murmured. In all honesty, the temptation of blood was getting harder and harder to resist with every minute. I was hoping for a break soon, to get some fresh air and clear my head.

"I see Carlisle," Edward murmured, leading us off the dance floor and into the crowd. With my arm securely threaded through his, he weaved his way to Carlisle, who was conversing with a new group of men I'd not met.

Edward flicked his eyes to me, "Droop your eyelids a little, and breathe a little heavier, then make your moves a little more lethargic."

I did as he said, and slowly followed behind him. When we reached Carlisle, Edward cleared his throat, the men all looked at him, and then their eyes greedily fell on me.

"Sorry to interrupt gentlemen, but I was hoping to steal Doctor Carlyle, Mrs. Carlyle is feeling a little faint. Perhaps some fresh air?"

"Of course," Carlisle nodded, looking worriedly my way, before quickly reaching out to grab my arm, "If you'll excuse us, gentlemen," he murmured.

We slowly walked through the crowds of people, some called out to Carlisle, but he acted as though he hadn't heard them as he led us to the side of the room, and slipped out an open door into the fresh air of the night.

"Are you all right, love?" He wondered with worry.

I nodded, taking deep breaths, "I'm fine, I could have gone longer without a break, but it's better to be safe than sorry."

He nodded, "It is. You're doing so well." He placed a chaste kiss on my cheek before then we leaned up against the balcony railing.

"Thank you," I murmured quietly, "Are you enjoying your night?" I wondered.

He gave a half shrug, "It's not too bad, although I must admit, I envied Edward, getting to dance with you."

I laughed, "Well you owe me a dance, mister, don't forget it."

He reached down and grabbed my hand, "Never in a million years."

"Have you run into Doctor Peyton yet?" Edward wondered.

Carlisle sighed, and looked out into the night. It was hard to see the stars in New York, because the many bright lights from the tall buildings outshone those in the sky. They were like stars on the ground, but I think I preferred the ones in the sky. "Who is Doctor Peyton?" I wondered.

Edward laughed, "He's the talk of the night."

Carlisle shook his head, "He looks to be somewhat of an agreeable man."

"If only the rumours weren't true," Edward sighed in mock wistfulness.

"But they are?" Carlisle wondered.

Edward nodded, "From what I can tell, they are."

When Carlisle sighed he looked disappointed, "That _is_ a shame."

"Doctor Denton is wondering why you haven't come in to get water for your wife, he's got one for you to give to her."

Carlisle smiled, "I'd better go in and get it then. He's a nice man Doctor Denton, albeit a little strange."

"Aren't we all a little strange in our own ways?" I wondered. Carlisle grinned, and placed a kiss on top of my head.

"That, indeed, we are, my dear. I shall not be long."

When Carlisle slipped back through the door, I turned to look at the bronze haired boy by my side. He was dressed just like all the rest, but something about his suit made him look older than he really was, perhaps it was the aura of sophistication that hung around him – he suited a suit very well.

"What is wrong with this Doctor Peyton?" I wondered, slightly annoyed that they were still excluding me from conversations by communicating in silence.

Edward pursed his lips, "See that man there," he pointed through the door to a group of men and women talking, "The one with the thick head of grey hair, standing next to the young brunette in the grey dress." I searched the group quickly to find them, but they were hard to miss. The elderly man had his hand on the woman's back, and he was rubbing up and down in a soothing motion while laughing boisterously at something. If it weren't for the _obvious_ romantic nature of their relationship I would have assumed the man was the woman's father – grandfather, even. "That's Doctor Peyton, and his guest, Nurse Simmons." Edward told me, "Peyton is the richest man here, he's from old money, and I mean old, _old_ money. He'd loud, funny, fairly easy-going, and quite a nice man, really."

"So what's everyone's problem?" I wondered.

Edward made an intelligible noise, and then said, "It's more a problem with the woman he brought."

At that moment, she moved, and I caught a better look at her. She wasn't beautiful in any outstanding way; in fact she had an odd masculinity about her. Her dark hair reached down barely passed the lobe of her ear, and it was obvious that it was not pinned, but rather, cut. Her black headdress was nearly unnoticeable against her dark hair, but it knotted at the side of her face, and a tassel fell down where a red feather rose up. She had a square jaw line, and her hair only emphasized this. She wore a loose fitting scarlet dress, with beads that cascaded in layers, finishing just below her knees. The straps were arranged in such away that made her shoulders seem very broad, and the neck plunged lower than any I'd seen before. When she talked I could see that her teeth were a little too large for her mouth, and her mouth a little too large for her face. Her eyes were large also; a dark brown, and they shined with happiness, which made her look kind, "Oh?"

"She's a nurse."

That would explain the kindness therein her eyes, "Is that frowned upon? Doctors and nurses?" I glanced back at Edward.

He shook his head, "No, it's just she's forty years his junior, and relatively new to the profession."

My brow furrowed, wondering why that was relevant, "That's their problem?"

"No."

I sighed, running out of ideas, I asked him, "Then what is?"

"He comes here every single year," Edward explained, "And every single year up until this one, he's brought with him his wife."

Realisation hit me like an avalanche of rocks, "Oh."

"Yes. And what's worse, is that no one has heard of any rumours of divorce, as far as everyone here is considered, they're still together – possible that he has filed for divorce and no one knows," Edward pursed his lips.

"If they have split, he's quick moving on then," I murmured.

Edward cleared his throat, "Well, everyone believes he didn't have to move _on_, per say, but rather, to the side, if you get my meaning?"

"They all think he was having an affair? That she's his mistress?" I guessed.

"Exactly." Edward gave a definitive nod.

"Why?" I wondered.

Edward pursed his lips, "Well, people suspect, and they're wholly correct in their suspicions, but it hasn't been confirmed verbally yet… that Nurse Simmons is with child. In all truth, she'll be giving birth in five months."

"_Oh._" Things made even more sense when Edward disclosed _that_ piece of information.

He let out a laugh, and nodded, "_Oh_."

"I understand now," I murmured.

Edward nodded again, "So everyone in attendance is faced with a moral dilemma, to talk to them, or not to?"

Carlisle appeared in the doorway then, wearing a small smile and holding a glass of water, "Here you are love, those plants look like they need a little watering."

I laughed, and reached for the glass, "How very kind of you to cater to my gardening needs, Doctor."

"Anytime, my dear." He watched amusedly as I tipped the water onto the greenery, and then sighed.

"I sometimes I wish quenching my thirst would be as easy as turning on a tap."

He gave me a sad smile, "I know, love. I'm sorry."

I shook my head, and reached up to touch his cheek, "I didn't mean it like that."

"Doctor Denton is coming," Edward warned in a murmur, looking toward the door. Carlisle and I pulled away right as the solid, grey haired man burst through the door, "Ah! Doctor Carlyle! And how are you feeling, Mrs. Carlyle?" He wondered looking to Esme.

"Oh, I'm better now thank you, Collin said you got me a glass of water, that was very kind of you. Thank you," I smiled, and tried not to notice the blush that rose in his cheeks.

"Think nothing of it, my dear! I was merely doing the party a service! Everyone is missing you and your young brother out there on the dance floor! But I have a few more people to introduce to you all, are you feeling quiet well enough to come back inside?" He wondered with wide eyes, and in his most persuasive voice.

I didn't know if I was quite yet ready, but I was as ready as I'd ever be, so I nodded, and we rejoined the party.

Doctor Denton introduced us to couple after couple, group after group; all who seemed delighted to be of our acquaintance. Edward pulled me away to dance a few times, and I often caught a look of longing in Carlisle's eyes as we vanished in the crowd of people – but I was holding him to the dance he owed us.

When Edward and I twirled around the floor, everyone watched. Although we weren't strictly supposed to be attracting attention, we couldn't help it, and Doctor Denton seemed to relish in all the extra attention that earned us off the floor. When it was nearly time for dinner, Edward and I pulled away from the crowd twirling around, to go and find Carlisle.

We were walking in between empty tables when a very cheery, but somewhat sneaky looking girl with bright orange hair, and a short, yellow beaded dress came bounding up toward us. She kept checking over her shoulder as though she was doing something she wasn't supposed to be. When she caught Edward's eye she flicked him a bright smile, and I heard him let out an exasperated sigh.

"Hello!" She chirped in a very broad New Yorker accent when she approached, not bothering to look my way.

"Good evening," Edward nodded respectfully, trying to get passed her, but she countered every move he made.

"My name is Chelsea Dongle, what's yours?"

Edward gave her a tolerant smile, "Mr. Anthony, and this is my sister, Mrs. Carlyle."

She spared me a quick glance and a tight smile, "Awfully formal, aint we?"

Edward's brow furrowed momentarily, "I apologise – proper would be the word I'd use to describe it."

She let out a laugh, "Look at you, Mr. High Strung, you know what I think you need?" She wondered suggestively.

"In fact, believe it or not I do," Edward murmured sarcastically too low for her ears, "No, I do not," he said louder.

"Well," Chelsea rolled her weight to once side and blinked up at Edward flirtatiously, "There's a little party going on a few buildings down, you know," her eyes flicked to me again, "For the _young_ ones." It was highly evident I was not invited.

"Ah, thank you, but I think I'll have to pass. If you'll excuse us." Edward moved to slip away, but Chelsea stopped him again.

"I aint talking about a party like this boring old thing. I'm talking about a _real_ party. There's booze, and cigarettes – lot of girls too! And there is _real_ music, not like this… stuff."

Edward gave her a tight smile, "Thank you for your invitation, but I'm rather enjoying myself here with my sister, and I quite like listening to this… stuff. Now, if you'll excuse us, we really need to find my sister's husband."

Chelsea didn't even look mildly offended; she merely shrugged, "Oh well, you're the one losing out," and turned on her heel before sashaying away.

Edward gave me an amused smile before leading the way to Carlisle who was standing next to Doctor Denton and the crimson clad woman Edward had pointed out earlier. My eyes involuntarily narrowed as I noticed how closely she was standing to my husband, and the way she was leaning toward him was in no way appropriate. I fought down a growl when she casually touched his arm. He didn't seem to notice it, but he reflexively took a step back. He looked up when he heard us coming, and his face broke into a smile, until he caught sight of my expression, then worry flooded his features.

"Keeping calm, remember, Esme," Edward murmured, "Keeping calm."

I took a deep breath, and rearranged my expression into a mask of happiness that I did not feel. Doctor Denton followed Carlisle's line of sight, and his eyes lit up with delight when he saw us.

"Oh look! Here comes Doctor Carlyle's wife and her brother! Perfect!"

Carlisle reached out for me when we approached, and Edward handed me over, "Did you enjoy your dance?" He wondered.

I nodded, smiling up at him, "But I'm still waiting for one with you."

He grinned, "I'm looking forward to it too," he turned to the group of people surrounding us, "Please, let me introduce my darling wife, and her brother. Darling, Mr. Anthony, these are Mr. and Mrs. Turner, who run one of the biggest pharmacological companies on the eastern seaboard, and their daughter, Miss Turner."

Carlisle presented us to a middle aged couple, who eyed us with envy, and it was not hard to see where their daughter got it from.

"How do you do?" Mr. Turner forced a smile, but I returned in genuinely.

"A pleasure to meet you," I murmured.

The conversation continued on as it had before our arrival, except Miss Turner spent all of her time shooting me ugly looks instead of flirting with my husband. The Turners talked, and talked, and talked, so much so that I never thought we'd get away, but then one loud, booming voice came from behind, causing them to scamper away like scared little rats.

"Denton!" The voice exclaimed, "Have you been avoiding me?" Doctor Peyton teased.

Denton laughed good naturedly, but there was a very subtle, unfriendly edge to it, "Old Peyton, old Peyton, how do you do, old chap?" Denton did not reach out a hand for Peyton to shake, nor did he offer to greet Nurse Simmons, but neither seemed to be affected by this.

"Better than I have been in a very long time, and yourself? Who are these fine people?" His nondescript blue eyes flickered to Edward and I, "I've been watching you two dance all night, many a time Scarlett has pointed you out to me, remarking on how lovely it is to watch. I think she wants me to dance with her like that, but," he burst out laughing a booming laugh that nearly made the floor shake, "That is _never_ going to happen. Perhaps young sir, you'll be kind enough to take my lovely girl here out onto the floor for me?"

"Oh, I'd not get my hopes up," Nurse Simmons spoke in a raspy voice, "I watched him turn down a pretty young thing just before. I'd say I've got no hope! But no matter, I'm fine to just watch, I think it's more pleasant for everyone else that way too," she smiled at the two of us, and I could almost see it deep in her eyes, she was begging for us to like her. I felt a surge of pity for the woman. She truly did seem lovely, but I couldn't fully allow myself to like her, I felt too sorry for Doctor Peyton's wife… after all, I had once been in shoes similar to hers.

"These," Doctor Denton interrupted, "My old friend, are my new friends. Doctor Carlyle is our newest doctor up in Halifax – best surgeon you've ever met, and these are is wife, Mrs. Carlyle, and her young brother, Mr. Anthony."

"A pleasure it is to meet you," Doctor Peyton nodded to us, but once again did not extend a hand to shake. I found this most peculiar.

As we talked to Doctor Peyton and Nurse Simmons, I found them to be very kind people, and if it weren't for their shameful reputation, I would have liked to call them friends. Out of all the people I had met that night, perhaps only aside from Mrs. Harrison, Nurse Simmons was the kindest.

When Doctor Denton, and Doctor Peyton laughed together for the first time, I thought that the entire hotel might crumble, and I'm sure the many people surrounding us who turned to glare, thought the same thing, so I was most relieved when Carlisle politely excused us from the conversation siding that it was "Due time he enjoyed a dance with the loveliest woman in the room."

Dancing with Carlisle was nothing like dancing with Edward. When my son and I twirled around the room we were acutely aware of every eye staring at us, but when I danced with my husband, the room did not exist. I was lost in his eyes for an immeasurable amount of time, as our feet automatically changed with the music not, needing our attention.

I'm not sure how long we danced for, but we only parted when the music began to fade away. The chatter in the hall was still loud as a feeble human voice tried to hush it. We found Edward by the edge of the dance floor, and stopped by him to listen to the announcement.

Eventually, the maître d' managed to capture everyone's attention to request we all be seated for the dinner service that was about to begin.

Doctor Denton appeared by our side in an instant, "You've been shown to our table?" He wondered, to which Carlisle nodded, "Very good, we'll be sitting with those lovely folks from Montreal General. The attendees from Quebec City General left early, I think the missus was feeling a little under the weather," Doctor Denton flicked Carlisle a wink, "So we might just have some spare seats we can push away, and make things more cosy!" He rubbed his thick hands together in excitement. Doctor Denton was about a head shorter than Carlisle and Edward, nearly the same height as me, and he oddly resembled a penguin in his fancy dinner jacket. Edward flicked me a grin at that thought.

As we wandered over to our table in the corner, Edward spoke up, "I say, Doctor Denton?"

"Yes, young Mr. Anthony?"

"Who is it that dines on the balconies?" Edward's eyes flickered up to the posh looking folks being personally seated at their tables on the floors above.

"Some of the donors request to be seated up there, and away from us common folk," he winked, "They don't like schmoozing at the table," he threw his head back as he laughed and his whole belly shook. He was still chuckling to himself, shaking his head, when we arrived at the table. Doctor Philippe and Miss Beaulieu were already seated, and smiled as we approached. As Doctor Philippe rose in greeting, Edward stood by the seat next to Marguerite, and Carlisle held the next seat along for me. Once I was comfortable the three men took their places, only to stand once more when Doctor and Mrs. Harrison arrived, and took their seats on the other side of the table.

Doctors Denton, and Harrison began an animated conversation with Carlisle, as Edward and Doctor Philippe began to discuss the party and attempt to find anything they had in common.

Mrs. Harrison smiled at me from her spot beside her husband, "Are you enjoying the party, dear?" She wondered.

"Oh, very much," I replied with a smile.

"You and your brother make quite the dance partners, I think you held the envy of everyone in the room."

"Oh," I smiled, and lowered my eyes to the table, "That's very kind of you to say."

She shook her head, "Honesty is different from kindness, dear."

"Yes," I agreed, "But quite often it takes kindness to have the courage to be honest."

She was quite for a moment as she pondered my words, but with a small smile she soon nodded, "Very true."

I was just about to ask her if she too was enjoying the party when we became aware of a slight drama unfolding not too far away. Mrs. Harrison looked at me with a bemused expression, one that I'm sure I mirrored exactly, as we tried to tune it out, but after a few more moments, the unhappy voice of a woman had garnered the attention of most of the patrons in our corner of the ballroom.

"I will _not!_" The woman in the garish orange dress from earlier, announced, "I will not sit at a table and dine with them. My reputation will not be tarnished in such a way. No, I will not allow it!"

She was speaking to a stunned waiter who was trying to show Doctor Payton and Nurse Simmons to their seats, which happened to be at the orange-dress-lady's table. I had gotten the impression that Nurse Simmons was a woman with unbelievably thick skin, so it surprised me somewhat to see her cheeks flushed bright red with blood – making it even more difficult for me to keep the monster inside, in check.

"I apologise," the man beside the lady in the orange dress spoke to the waiter, "We will either be moving or you will have to find a new table for our good friends here. Some unfortunate rumours have spread about some unsavoury practices and we'll not take the risk of association if any of these rumours prove to be true, which I am sure our friends understand."

"O' 'ow 'orrible!" Miss Beaulieu murmured, as she watched on with a stricken expression.

The discussion had come to somewhat of a standstill, as everybody waited to see what the waiter would say. He moved to open his mouth when Edward murmured, "Oh, no."

"Oh!" A sweet, accented voice filled the room, as Miss Beaulieu's chair made a horrendous scraping noise against the floor and she stood up. Everyone turned around to look at her with dumbfounded expressions… including us, "Eet ees simple!" She exclaimed with delight, "We 'ave two spare seats 'ere! Zeez nice people can seet wiz uz! Problem solved!"

The expressions of terror that fluttered onto every one of our new friend's faces was identical, and somewhat comical, for they only lasted seconds before they were covered up by expressions of fake contentment.

Doctor Peyton raised an eyebrow, probably expecting one of us to object, but nobody did, so the waiter led the rejected couple over to our table. Doctor Philippe's ears were bright red – I was glad he wasn't sitting next to me – with embarrassment, as he eyed the three men across from him and mouthed an apology. I saw Carlisle flick a glance to Doctor Denton, to gauge his reaction, but his boss' expression was unreadable.

Edward shifted in his seat and discreetly covered his mouth with his hand, "This presents a predicament," he murmured too quick for human ears, "Doctor Peyton is one of the biggest funders in the room. No matter what, Vancouver General Hospital lost themselves a lot of money by that stunt Mrs. Jensen just pulled, but whether or not that money goes to Montreal and Halifax Generals, is undecided. The predicament here however, is if the rumours are true, which they are, then will there be scandal surrounding everyone here?"

I bit the inside of my lip, worried for Carlisle's job. When the couple arrived at the table, the four men unwillingly stood up.

"Thank you," Doctor Peyton murmured quietly, "Not everyone here is so understanding." He helped Nurse Simmons into her seat, and then the men sat. I'm sure we were all acutely aware of the eyes burning into our backs.

But then, a loud bang from the street distracted everyone. Naturally, I froze at the loud sound, only vaguely aware of the comforting hand that began to pat mine. The inhabitants of the ballroom looked around wildly with worry, and everyone began to murmur.

"What on Earth? What is that?" Doctor Denton wondered loudly.

My best guess what that Edward was the only one who knew exactly where the noise was coming from. I watched as the hotel staff raced to the windows to close them much to my disappointment, and I heard people murmuring something about a raid.

Truly though, a raid should have been the least of their worries, because when the last window closed, they were trapped in a room with a newborn vampire who was soon to be out of air, and they all smelled oh, so good…

* * *

_A.N. Surprise! I'm back before Christmas! The sand burned my feet this afternoon, so I had time to work on the second part of this chapter, and thought I'd may as well post part one! First things first, thank you all for your reviews so far! I really appreciate them :)  
_

_Now, I'd like to say a super big thank you to Sara K M for beta-ing this chapter (and the continuation of the dance in the next chapter) for me and making sure that my history details were correct (thanks especially for the pointers on jazz singers, dance cards, and women working during the war). Sara – you're a gem! Oh, and I decided to have the dance cards be kept with the hotel staff by the door, hence why Edward could steal Esme's an ensure she didn't have to dance with a human!  
_

_This chapter wasn't actually supposed to end here, but it was so long, and the next chapter I had planned wasn't as long, so I decided to combine them, and make a two-parter. This chapter (and the next one) took me a ridiculous amount of time to write, so I'd really appreciate your reviews on how much you liked / disliked it!_

_I'll put Part Two up soon, I'm not sure if it will be before or after Christmas though. I am still planning on finishing the story before the year has come to an end. So that means I have four chapters in just over a week... hmmm, we shall see if I can do this!_

Much love, and Merry Christmas again! xx


	59. Nightmares From the Past (Part Two)

_Chapter Fifty-Nine: Nightmares From The Past_ _(Part Two)_

_New York City, New York, March 1922_

_Esme_

The raid down the street was short lived, and soon enough Edward excused himself from the table to discreetly open a window, and order was restored to the world. I sighed a breath in relief, and the confused murmuring soon turned into laughter once again.

When Edward came to sit down, he lent down to murmur in my ear, "Over there."

I followed his line of sight to see young Chelsea sneaking into the room looking rather dishevelled and most disgruntled. Her parents met her with stern, yet embarrassed glares.

"What is the bet that everyone in this room has a secret alcohol storage in their basement?"

I flicked him a disapproving look, "It's not good to gamble, Edward."

He laughed, and shrugged, "Well I'm betting high."

I shook my head at him, truthfully though, I couldn't help but smile. I turned to Carlisle, only somewhat noticing that our table was not one of those conversing lightly, instead, it was shrouded it the same awkward silence.

"Are these dinners always so eventful?" I wondered.

He smiled and shook his head, "Not always."

We shared a quiet laugh, until Marguerite decided to end the awkwardness that had engulfed the table, but unfortunately, she unintentionally made it worse.

"At least zat distracted everyone from glaring our way!" Marguerite announced, "'onestly, I do not know what ees zere problem! So rude! I should 'ave said something to zat woman, zee nerve she 'as to make such a scene of you two sitting with 'er! I –"

"Marguerite, I think we've had quite enough of that for tonight." Doctor Philippe murmured quietly, his ears had gone bright red once again.

Marguerite's fine eyebrows crinkled in confusion and offence, "Excuse moi? Ees a woman not allowed to speak up about something she ees passionate about?"

"Please," he whispered, "Would you just be quiet?"

Silence engulfed us in awkwardness again, as Marguerite glowered at Doctor Philippe. A few of the men shuffled in their seats, and everyone stared at their cutlery. It was horrible, I felt dreadfully sorry for Marguerite, being scolded at the table in such a way, and having Doctor Peyton, and Nurse Simmons sitting with us only added to the awkwardness. I was expecting either Carlisle or Edward to say something to ease the tension, but they both looked as awkward as I felt.

So I looked across the table to Mrs. Harrison, and words just came out of my mouth, "I do _love_ your necklace! Wherever did you get it?"

She beamed, glad for a reprieve from the tension at the table, "Why thank you! I found it at this lovely store in Quebec City, it's called Elizabetta's. This little Italian woman runs it, she used to be quite renowned for designing furniture in Italy during the Arts and Craft's movement in the 1880's and 1890's, but when she migrated to Canada, she moved to jewellery. She makes it all by hand, everything is one of a kind. Nothing like this mass produced phenomenon that plagues the city."

I nodded, "Mass production is understandable though, increased demand means a need for increased production at the determent to originality."

"Oh, I completely agree," she nodded, "I actually worked in a factory during the Great War," she informed me proudly.

"You did not! That's remarkable!" I grinned at her.

She laughed, "You're one of a small group I've met who thinks so, why work when the husband is?" she shrugged, then giggled, "I wanted to. Besides Roger encouraged me. He's proud," she glanced adoringly to her husband, who nodded.

"It's always good to have a skilled woman as a wife," he smiled, "Besides, it wasn't a dangerous position. A happy wife is a happy husband," Doctor Harrison informed us.

"You wouldn't have been young enough to work during the war, would you?" She wondered, looking at me with curious eyes.

I laughed bashfully, not fully knowing what our cover story was, but Edward saved me, "Quite, my sister became of age the year the war began, but our father was conscribed early, and our mother had all ready passed, so my sister was left with the parental duty of taking care of me. She did such a good job, I don't think I'll ever want to leave."

All the men at the table burst into laughter, "Isn't that just the truth!" Doctor Denton beamed, "My wife, may she rest in peace, was an awful cook! I used to sneak around to my mothers house after dinner to be fed edible food."

"Oh no!" Doctor Harrison exclaimed, "My wife is a brilliant cook!"

"Oh, he has to say that," Mrs Harrison grinned, "I'm sitting right here!"

We shared a chuckle, then Doctor Peyton addressed Edward, "What is it exactly that you would like to do as a profession, young Mr. Anthony?"

Edward sat up a little straighter and smiled at the man, "My father was a lawyer, so I've considered following in his footsteps, but Doctor Carlyle has inspired me with his profession, so I'm at a loss for what to choose."

"Of course," I murmured, "You could also pave your own path to walk, the possibilities are endless; you just have to think of them."

Edward smiled tenderly down at me, "Of course, there's that option too."

"Oh, how sweet," Mrs. Harrison murmured.

The silence that followed was laced with the tension still radiating off of Marguerite and Doctor Philippe; it was exceptionally uncomfortable. So, with a gulp I swallowed down my fears and I decided to take a gigantic risk. Clearing my throat, I focussed my eyes on Nurse Simmons, who was staring at her cutlery, it broke my heart to see the tears swimming in her eyes, "Was it during the war, Nurse Simmons," her head shot up in surprise upon hearing her name, "That you decided to join the medical profession?"

She blinked once, and Doctor Peyton eyed me curiously, with a small smile on his lips.

"During the war, become a nurse? Yes," she murmured just above a whisper, nodding, clearing her throat and speaking louder, "Yes it was. My mother was a nurse, my father a doctor, it seemed like an appropriate choice. It meant that I could help the effort in some way or another."

"That's very brave of you," I murmured with a small smile.

Her eyes widened once again in surprise, before a single tear dropped from her eye and she smiled. Quickly she brushed the tear away, "Thank you. You seem like a very brave woman yourself Mrs. Carlyle, and an exceptionally kind one."

"Nonsense, I haven't a clue what you're talking about," I grinned back at her, "That dress of yours looks like it would have taken a very long time to make, the beading is divine."

She laughed a little awkwardly, "Thank you. Yes, I didn't make it. I purchased it at a store."

"Here in New York?" I wondered.

"No," she shook her head, "In Paris."

"Ooooh!" Exclaimed Marguerite, "You 'ave been to Paris? Did you love eet?"

Nurse Simmons smiled, "It was beautiful, have you ever been Mrs. Carlyle, Mrs. Harrison?"

"I've never," I shook my head.

"I went once when I was younger, before the war. Lovely place, but I do prefer Canada. Where is it that you call home these days Peyton?"

"Here and there," he shrugged, "Wherever the wind takes us."

"We're nomads, if you will," Nurse Simmons smiled. As Doctor Peyton and the Harrisons engaged in a conversation that wasn't at all filled with ease, but nor filled with palpable tension, Nurse Simmons glanced at me, and mouthed 'Thank you.'

I nodded with a smile, 'You're welcome,' then motioned for her to wipe away her tears. I told her it would be okay, even though I wasn't sure if it would be.

When the conversation died down, Nurse Simmons looked between Mrs. Harrison and I, "I never did catch you say, exactly what hospitals do your husbands work at?" She wondered.

Mrs Harrison smiled, "Doctors Harrison, and Philippe are at Montreal General, while Doctors Denton, and Carlyle are from Halifax."

"That's good to know," Nurse Simmons smiled, and then turned to Doctor Peyton, "Did you hear that, darling?"

"Loud and clear, love," he grinned.

Doctor Denton laughed with delight, causing Doctor Peyton to cast him a humoured look, "Old friend I see your warmth has returned, I fear my rather unfavourable reputation chilled you to me."

"I have to be cautionary when it comes to the well-being of my hospital, Peyton, this I'm sure you're well aware of."

Doctor Peyton shook his head, "You'd not be getting a cent of my money if your staff weren't the nicest and most professional I'd ever come across. Gentlemen, I'd advise you to be very thankful to your wives tonight."

"Always," Doctor Harrison grinned.

"After all!" Exclaimed Marguerite, raising a showy hand in the air, "A 'usband ess nothing without a good wife!"

There was a beat of dead silence at the table as we all stared at her, then with a shrug, Mrs. Harrison held up her glass, "I'll drink to that."

And our table fell into the first comfortable conversation since our extras arrived. While the noise engulfed us I heard Doctor Denton murmur to Carlisle, "Tell your wife she might be packing her bags for Paris soon enough, and tell her thank you. Peyton is going to be very generous, I can see it."

Carlisle nodded to him, and then turned to me, but before he could say anything, I apologised, "I'm sorry," I whispered, "I shouldn't have done that."

"What are you talking about?" He murmured as his brow furrowed.

"I shouldn't have taken that risk, and talked to her."

Carlisle shook his head, "You did the right thing. You took the risk, and it paid off, if it hadn't paid off, I wouldn't be upset – these things happen."

"I could have embarrassed you."

He shook his head, "You could never embarrass me. Now, stop apologising, love, and let me _thank_ you. You're the hero of the night."

I sighed and shook my head, fighting a smile, "Stop exaggerating," I teased.

He shook his head, "You did the right thing. Nothing great would ever be accomplished without taking risks."

He gently rubbed my hand on the table and then turned back to Doctor Denton. I sat quietly for a short while only vaguely paying attention to what was being discussed by the people at our table, and I was just about to spark up a conversation with Mrs. Harrison who was smiling at me from across the table, when I heard the doors to the ballroom open. This would not have been a remarkable thing, had it not been for the most pungent smell that accompanied it. Immediately my head whipped up - I had to take extreme care that it didn't whip up unnaturally fast – and my sharp eyes fell upon the plates precariously balanced on waiter's arms, filled with devilled eggs and some kind of fishy thing. I'd never come across a smell so disgusting ever before.

"Mrs. Carlyle?" Mrs. Henderson's voice managed to get my attention, but my mind was somewhat blank.

Carlisle turned to look at me, and I felt his had gently touch mine.

"We're not used to such fragrant food, we have to be very careful what types of food we have at home, many seem to be triggers for my wife's illness."

"Illness?" Mrs. Harrison wondered with a worried look upon her face.

Carlisle nodded, "Unfortunately Mrs. Carlyle is prone to an unknown illness."

There was a gasp from the other end of the table, and my eyes met with Nurse Simmons, who looked absolutely heartbroken, "Is it serious?" She wondered in a whisper.

Carlisle cleared his throat, and gave a solemn nod but didn't elaborate further. He turned to me, "Are you all right?"

I swallowed and nodded, as the horrid smell came closer our way, "I'm fine," I lied.

He gave me a tight smile, as Edward muttered under his breath, "We forgot to warn you about cooked food – it stinks."

I fought the urge to flick him a wry smile, _I hadn't noticed._

"At any time," Carlisle murmured a reminder to me, and I nodded. I'd probably have to take him up on that sooner or later, I didn't know how I was going to manage inhaling such a putrid scent. It got worse when the plate was placed before me, and I had to pretend to eat it. I'd once been worried about remembering what cutlery to use, but with the distraction of the horrendous thing the others at the table were complementing, I didn't think twice.

Doctor Peyton cleared his throat from the other side of the table, "Doctor Carlyle, may I inquire as to your wife's condition sometime? The women at this table have extended a great courtesy and kindness to Nurse Simmons, I would very much like to help your family in any way I can."

Carlisle looked surprised for a brief moment, but then smiled, "I would very much like that, Doctor Peyton. Perhaps after dinner we could discuss it further?"

Doctor Peyton smiled a very bright smile, "It would make me very happy indeed."

So the dinner continued in the comfortable fashion, but the stench got worse when the waiters brought out some clear-ish green soup I couldn't identify once the fish and eggs were gone. The Waldorf salad wasn't quite so bad – much less fragrant, but the spiced ham and turkey that came out as the main was nearly enough for me to ask Carlisle if we could leave. Thankfully, I had my illness as an excuse not to eat an awful lot. I was relieved once that course was over, because it only left dessert, which was a chocolate pudding that I used to _love_, but smelling that with my new nose, I couldn't come up with idea why I did. It was an absolute relief when all of the dishes were removed from the room.

Following dinner there were speeches, and more dancing. Carlisle and Doctor Peyton got into an in depth conversation about research into my mysterious illness. In the end, he promised to provide enough funding to keep Carlisle researching for the remainder of his life, but I had no idea what real disease Carlisle would actually choose to research.

It was late in the night when we decided that we had indeed, had enough. Before we could take our leave, Doctor Denton pulled me in to a thankful embrace, which dangerously stunned me, to be honest. His neck was so close and smelled so sweet that Edward had to make a point of clearing his throat, causing Doctor Denton to pull away for propriety's sake.

It was a delightful relief when we gathered our coats and exited the hotel, where we were greeted with beautiful fresh air. The roads were still bustling with life, despite the late hour, but it was a relatively quiet walk back to our hotel.

When we reached the door, Edward paused, and offered us a small smile, "You two go ahead, I might just go and enjoy the night – there are a few rooftops calling my name."

Nodding we bid him goodnight, and arm in arm we wandered through the doors, happy that the night had been a success.

* * *

_The Next Day _

_New York City, New York, March, 1922_

While Carlisle had gone to fetch the car, Edward and I wandered around Central Park, arm in arm. We'd checked out of the hotel earlier that morning, after a very large bunch of flowers were delivered to our room from Doctor Denton, thanking us for our success the night before. A surprising development in the lives of the people we met last night, also arrived that morning, on the front page of the news. Much to my and Carlisle's surprise (not Edward's, of course) it was reported that nearly nine months earlier Doctor Peyton's wife of twenty-seven years had died in an automobile accident. The details of the death had been kept quiet due to an ongoing investigation regarding the suspicious circumstances around the collision of the two cars involved. However, yesterday in Great Britain a man was charged for deliberately causing her death and sentenced to life in prison. Doctor Denton had called our hotel, coincidentally while we were downstairs checking out, to inform Carlisle that many of the attendees of last night's dinner had contacted Doctor Peyton with their deepest sympathies and their sincerest apologies. Denton also informed Carlisle that many of the funders, who'd noticed the welcome that the staff at both Montreal and Halifax hospitals had extended to Doctor and Nurse Peyton (it was also revealed that the two had secretly married many months before), was the type of behaviour that one would expect from the folks who saved lives for a living. Needless to say, Doctor Denton was confident that the funding received from just last nights function alone would keep Halifax General Hospital's research programs afloat for many, many years. It seemed to us that morning that nothing could go wrong; we were floating peacefully, and happily on cloud nine.

As we wandered around one of New York City's greatest attractions, it was amusing to watch people's faces in Central Park as they caught sight of a vampire for the first time. They gawked and gaped at us for brief moments, before managing to compose their facial expressions and merely stare. I always though it must be amusing for Edward to know what they were thinking at such times.

Carlisle found us near the lake, "I parked the car not too far away, shall we have one last look down 5th? I saw sale signs, and I know how much you like them," he winked at me.

Even though Carlisle had more than enough money to afford expensive things that weren't on special, I was still clinging onto the penny-pinching habits that I was raised with.

I grinned and nodded, so we headed off down the recently made shopping strip. The sidewalks were crowded with city-goers, and looking around at all of their focussed faces I came to wonder what brought them all to be walking on the sidewalk in New York City.

"Well," Edward murmured, hearing my curiosity, "He's a stockbroker heading to Wall Street," he nodded to a passerby in a suit, then a woman in a pretty dress, "She's down from the Hampton's, off on a large shopping spree, he's here for the Northeast &amp; Midwest Small Business Managerial Skills Seminar, she's a visitor from Britain looking for Macy's, they're locals heading to Central Park, he's on his morning tea break, he's heading to work, he's a doctor from Maine who was at the dinner last night, she's on her way to morning tea with her friends, he's going to an interview, she's going to visit her mother in hospital, he's going to spend his day bird watching in Central Park, and might even sleep on one of the benches."

"I thought using your gift like this made you uncomfortable?" Carlisle wondered.

Edward shrugged, "It's mostly harmless, it's not as though I'm telling you anything they wouldn't tell you if you asked."

Carlisle nodded, "Fair enough. Where do we want to go first?" He wondered.

I looked around the street focussing on the storefronts, and listening in to passing conversation to get a better idea as to what shops were on offer when I heard a noise I never, ever thought I'd hear anywhere again aside the nightmares I had during my blackest days and darkest nights. It was the sound that had, for years upon years, filled me from head to toe with absolute dread, a sound that seemed like it came from so long ago but not long ago enough. It was enough to make me forget that I was on Carlisle's arm; it was enough to make me forget that I was a vampire, that I had lived an unbelievably happy life for the passed eleven months. It was enough to make me forget that I was safe. All of a sudden, I was a weak little human married to a horrible, horrible man.

I always believed that there was a lot of luck in the world, but it seemed on that day, that luck just wasn't with me. Of every time to take a trip to New York City, of every day to be strolling down fifth avenue, of every place in the crowded street to be, and of all the luck to have… I happened to be walking straight toward a monster.

And Charles Evenson was nearly staring me straight in the face.

Edward froze on the spot, and Carlisle looked up, alarmed. I couldn't think of anything to say to either of them, all I could think to do was escape. It wasn't at all for my well being, I didn't care whether or not Charles could physically hurt me, but if he saw me, and he recognised me, our entire cover story would be blown. And what would happen? Charles would know too much and we'd have to kill him. Honestly, I didn't worry so much about his death, but I worried more for whoever's hands the blood would be on. I was not going to let this end in more death. So moving quickly, I pulled Carlisle and Edward off the street and into a nearby alleyway. Carlisle looked at me with confusion, but I wasn't sure if I could speak. Edward was still standing rigid like a statue, but we managed to get him into the small, confined space.

"Esme?" Carlisle whispered with worry, as I hid myself in between their bodies, facing Carlisle's chest, with Edward facing my back, "What's going on?"

There was only one thing I could choke out, which was enough to make him freeze too, "Charles."

I could hear his footsteps coming toward the alley, for I knew them oh-so well, I held my breath as I buried myself in Carlisle's chest, trying in vain to comfort the both of us.

As Murphy's Law would have it be, Charles could not just walk passed the alleyway, he had to try and come down it. I decided that the mysterious Murphy must have been very, very like me. I tried not to look up at him, I didn't want my vampire memory to see his face clearly, so I kept my face buried in Carlisle's chest, and he kept his arms frozen around me.

"Oh," I heard Charles murmur in a voice that seemed rough to my vampire ears, but always sounded so smooth and uncaring to my human ones, "This one is all ready occupied… by three." There was a crunching of fabric, indicating a shrug, and a harsh female voice that replied.

"Well, we need to use this short cut, yes?"

_Bad move, lady,_ I thought, _nobody talks to him like that and gets away with it._

He gave his signature unhappy grunt in reply, then their footsteps walked forward. Charles smelled pungent, perhaps it was because I was completely adverse to him, or it may have been the stench of last night's alcohol and tobacco in his veins, I'd never smelled a more unappetizing human being in my vampire life.

"Hmm…" He made a noise as he pushed passed us, "Good day."

No one replied to his greeting, but thankfully he didn't recognise me, instead, he pulled his lady friend forward with a grumble of, "People these days," and after a few more minutes, he was gone.

The boys were both frozen around me, so I glanced up to Carlisle's face. I never would have thought it possible for him to look that much a vampire, but he did. He had a murderous glint in his eye, and his lips were set in such a way it looked as though he was silently snarling. With a quick look over my shoulder, I was surprised to see that Edward's expression was worse; despite my thinking it was impossible.

I knew I had to get them out of there before they did something that they would later regret. So I tried to reach deep inside of me for the newborn strength I no longer possessed, and then grabbed each of their wrists, and quickly fled the alleyway. I wasn't entirely sure where Carlisle had parked the car, but I knew its smell. I found it's scent easily, mixed with Carlisle's and faint traces of Edward's and my own, and I somehow managed to navigate the two boys to the familiar sight.

They were more responsive than I thought they would be, as I forced them in the car. Their faces were still angry, but held that stunned, shocked stillness about them. I slipped into the driver's seat, and fished around in Carlisle's pockets for the key. I found it quickly, then turned the key in the ignition, and somehow, by a million or two miracles, managed to pull into the traffic and flee New York City.

It was going to be a long drive ahead, and I was most unwilling to do it, but I was unbelievably grateful for the driving lessons that the boys had somewhat forced me into, after all, I of all people knew there were much worse things to be forced to do than learn how to drive a car. Things, like reliving nightmares from the past.

* * *

_Somewhere Near the United States/Canadian Boarder, __March 1922_

_Carlisle_

She drove all the way to the international line between the United States and Canada until I was able to pull myself out of my daze and realised how shaken she must be, and how selfish I was being.

"Pull over, love," I murmured as calmly as I could manage, feeling a little disconnected from myself, "Whenever you can. I can drive from here."

"Are you sure?" She looked up at me with wide, questioning eyes, her soft voice was music to my ears.

"Yes," I confirmed, so she pulled over, and we quickly swapped seats.

"I surprised myself," she murmured, as I turned the car back on, "I never thought I'd be able to drive that far."

I gave her a tight smile, "You did do very well."

She returned my smile, but her eyes were filled with worry, "Are you sure you want to drive? I mean, I really don't mind…"

"No," I forced another smile at her, "I need all the distraction I can get. This isn't much, but it's something."

"Turn around," Edward nearly growled.

I quickly glanced over to him and caught a glimpse of his black expression, glaring out the windscreen looking like a true, and dangerous hunter. Before I could reply, Esme answered him fiercely.

"No," she insisted, then repeated herself quietly, "No. We're going home, then we'll talk, but for the rest of the drive back we're going to forget about what happened today and I'm going to talk about pointless things that neither of you are interested in, but you're both going to listen, reply and act like I'm giving the most riveting speech at some elite conference, like accepting a Nobel Prize. Agreed?"

I agreed quickly, I needed every distraction I could get. It took a little more convincing by Esme before Edward too agreed to her demands.

I truly tried to focus on the words that were coming out of her mouth like I promised her I would. I knew from the look on Edward's face that he was still reeling from our encounter earlier on in the day, and for his sake, I couldn't allow myself to dwell on it, to think about it, or to ponder it because I couldn't risk adding to the torture in his head with my own. I'd never seen him look so livid, or angry before. I had to distract myself from the anger by focussing on the worry I felt for him, and when that became too much, I did as my wife had requested; I listened to her jabbering voice beside me, not paying attention to the words she was speaking, and watched as the sun turned the sky a rich shade of purple on the horizon at the end of the road. I tried to imagine I was one of the leaves on the trees at either side of the highway, blowing gently in the late winter breeze, but in all truth, and honesty, only her voice worked.

The entire ride back to Halifax she talked, and talked, and talked. Although there was the darkness of my sinner's thoughts from earlier, settling in my heart, my mood had improved marginally listening to her speaking. I could see from my constant looks out of the corner of my eye however, that her magic had not achieved it's desired effects on our son. When I pulled into the mismatched wooden shack that we called a garage, and parked on the dead, golden grass of the floor, his tenebrous expression matched the pitch black shed outside of us. Esme's voice faded into silence, and I could almost feel Edward's anger radiating off of him - which caused my own to increase.

Edward turned to face the two of us as I tried to calm down for Esme's sake, "We need to talk about this." He nearly growled.

I nodded in complete agreement, "We do." My voice was too hard, too harsh, too angry, I needed to rectify that, so I focused on softening it, even though the burning, red heat of anger still coursed through my body, "Shall we go inside first? Perhaps we can gather around the dinner table, civility often does wonders to rational thought."

Edward nodded, but his lips were still pursed in a hard line. He quickly reached for the door handle, and in his haste I wondered if he would break it. He managed to leave the car in tact, before disappearing off into the dark night toward the house. Esme sat still in the passenger seat beside me, staring at her hands. Immediately, I felt unforgivably wretched for my anger that would have done no good to her already shaken state.

"Are you all right?" I wondered quietly, thankful my voice was soft.

Her head slowly turned toward me, to reveal wide, frightened eyes. She nodded, and reached out for my hand, as her expression turned sad, "Don't let him do anything brash, please Carlisle," she whispered slowly, so low that her voice was nearly lost in the silence of the dark night, her bottom lip trembled, as she squeezed my hand so tight, it nearly felt as though she was holding on for dear life, "I'm so scared, Carlisle, please... please, don't let him leave."

It broke my heart to see her like that, so I wrapped my arms around her, and held her tightly to my chest for a short moment as she trembled with sadness, and fear. I knocked off her white and pink hat, and buried my face in her perfectly done hair, willing her to feel safe in my embrace. I didn't want to pull away, but when we did I was relieved to see her expression was a little more calm.

"Let's go," she whispered a little fearfully.

I took a deep breath and nodded. We held hands as we dashed across the lawn, and to the house that rose out of the darkness in a new, and ominous way. Edward had not turned on a single light when he entered, but he had left the door open, and it swung in the chilly night wind, never once quite managing to slam shut, or fling back into the wall behind it. The hallway was filled with darkness, which I could tell that Esme did not like, as she quickly moved over to flick on the light - every single light in the whole house. We followed Edward's scent into the dining room, where he was seated on one of Esme's carefully restored chairs around the long, oval mahogany table in the centre of the room, his hands were folded on the tabletop, and his face was a stone mask of nothingness. He did not look up when we walked in, but instead continued staring at his hands in front of him.

We slowly took the seats across from him, never once letting go of each others hands. Esme reached out to place her other tiny hand atop his. He offered her a brief smile when she did that, but there was nothing good about that smile. It was not a smile I knew well - it took me back to Edward's newborn years.

Esme spoke first, her voice was quiet, but her bravery was screaming loud, "Did he… did he recognise me? It _was_ him, wasn't it? I didn't catch a full look at his face, but I heard him talking, and I'm fairly certain, but I can't be sure."

Edward gave her a curt nod, "From what I could gather it was him, and no he didn't recognise you. Your hair colour did spark a flicker of recognition, but he didn't picture you when he saw it."

"So," Esme murmured in a small voice that was filled with hope, "It might not have been him?"

Edward didn't look at all happy at her question; his brow pulled together and he pursed his lips, "Perhaps not, there is a chance it was someone else, but the chance is very slim. I'd say on the balance of probabilities that it was him."

"But it's okay because he didn't recognise me," Esme leaned back in her seat with a small smile, and squeezed my hand in relief.

Edward raised an eyebrow, "Okay?" He let out a cold laugh, and shoo his head. His dark eyes were blazing with an angry light, "I think it's far from _okay_, Esme. It's far from okay that he is still walking the Earth!" Edward's hands balled into fists.

Esme's brow crumpled, and she frowned a little, "What exactly do you mean by that?"

"I think we should do something about it," he shrugged as though it was obvious, "I think we should do the world some justice."

I raised an eyebrow, and wondered, "What system of justice would that follow, exactly?"

His eyes turned to me, I half-by expected them to be angry, but they were thoughtful, "It wouldn't follow any system of justice exactly, but it's what's right."

My brow furrowed, "Right for whom?"

"Esme!" Edward exclaimed with irritation, gesturing to my wife, "And all the other woman that _monster_ will ever come into contact with."

"And how exactly would you deliver this justice?" I wondered, only partly incredulous, it surprised me somewhat that I was in fact, curious.

"We're well equipped killers, Carlisle," Edward said coldly, leaning back into his seat and folding his arms.

It took me a moment to realise what he was saying, incredulously I asked, "You would drink his blood?"

"No!" Esme exclaimed sitting forward in her seat, alarm evident in the high pitch of her voice, "No! Not at all, I simply won't allow it."

"Esme," Edward sighed in exasperation as he turned to look back at her.

She shook her head indignantly, "No, you listen to me now Edward, I've heard you out, and I say no. Charles Evenson was _my _husband, and I think out of all of us at this table, what happens to him concerns me most. I do not, and will not, ever condone what he did to me, because there is no way it was right. He was mean, he was borderline evil, and I'm not saying that it would be any kind of disservice to the world if he were to meet an early end, but I am saying that this end will _not_ be at your hands. I'll not have him affect another member of our family; I'll not have him ruin this life like he ruined my last one. I don't want you to go out there and defend my honour, or bring your own kind of justice, I want us all to forget about it and move on. Maybe that might be selfish, but I am far enough away from him that everything is good. He can never harm me again." Her words rang out the an air of finality about them, but Edward would not give up.

"But what about the next woman?" I could hear the irritation in his tone, but judging by the determined expression upon my wife's face she wither could not see it, or did not care.

Esme shrugged, "If she's strong enough, she'll leave."

"But not before she's hurt," he argued with intensity.

"That's the thing about life though, Edward – you get hurt."

"By the hands of someone who is supposed to you love you, you shouldn't!" He exclaimed standing up, his chair rocketed back and crashed into the wall with a loud bang, causing Esme to shrink back into her seat, "It's sick, it's twisted and most of all it's wrong! He's evil and he needs to be stopped!"

"There's more than one way to stop a person, Edward," I reminded him softly, "One that doesn't mean giving up this life we have here. One that doesn't mean going back on what we believe in, or are you rethinking your motives for living this way?" I wondered.

He looked shocked at my suggestion, and it took him a moment to reply, but when he did, his voice was soft, honest, sincere, "No," he shook his head, "No, gosh no, Carlisle. I… I just can't reason with this!" His voice grew louder, as his annoyance grew once again, "I don't want to kill him to taste his blood! I want him to be dead for the people he's hurting!"

"We're not the –"

"I know!" Edward yelled in agitation, and then let out a low growl, "I can see we'll never agree on this. Of course, I think you're both being absolutely absurd, but unwavering." He gave a quiet snarl, "But there's nothing more for me to say. I'm going for a hunt, don't worry, I'll stay in the nearby forests."

He turned on his heel, and disappeared from the room, a growl echoed through the hallway, and there were numerous crashes from the living room before the front door slammed, and the hinges broke, leaving the long piece of carved wood to fall to the floor.

I turned to Esme, who was looking out the door with surprise, frozen in place. Of all the reactions Edward could have had to seeing Charles, he had to break her furniture. He was going to feel terrible in the morning.

"Esme?" I murmured, gingerly squeezing her hand I still held. She turned quickly to look at me; her eyes were wide and filled with shock, and her lips were slightly ajar.

I shuffled toward her in my seat, and pulled her close to me, showering kisses in her hair, "Everything is okay, he would never hurt you." I'm not sure who I was trying to comfort most, her or me.

She wrapped her arms around me tightly and buried her face in my chest, before pulling away abruptly, and looking up to me with worry-filled eyes, "We need to find him," she whispered.

It didn't surprise me that her first thought was his well being, but I had to think about hers too. I eyed her carefully wondering who really needed my help more, Esme, or Edward? She looked like she was holding herself together okay, albeit a little shaken, she was still having a conversation with me, and she looked nothing but determined.

But I shook my head, "He won't want to be found, and he won't have calmed down yet. He'll be angry at himself for losing control of his temper around you."

"Then you go without me," she insisted.

"Esme, you have to be teetering on the edge of hysteria, even though you're hiding it from me. I can't leave you right now," I told her softly, but she shook her head once more, and pulled further away from me.

She offered me a soft smile, her voice was quiet when she spoke next, "I'll hold on until you get back, promise."

I sighed, and with a little more insistence from her, as well as a long hug, and a quiet kiss upon her head, I unwillingly dashed out the broken front door and into the dark forest following Edward's scent.

The night always painted the forest shades of purple and blue, but never black. The wind blew through the trees, making howling noises as I ran.

Edward surprised me by not going far at all. I found him just five minutes from the house standing on a rock in a small clearing, facing the trees with his back to me.

"She told you to come," he murmured. His voice was soft, venerable.

_Yes,_ I replayed her insistence, noting that she didn't appear to be overly shaken by his outburst.

He sighed, and turned around to face me, his expression was distraught, his eyebrows were pulled together and he spoke with a frown, "I didn't mean to lose control like that, I feel wretched. I just wanted to protect her, I know you understand."

"I do," I murmured, "And I understand where you are coming from." _But do you understand where I am coming from?_

He nodded, "Believe it or not, I nearly always understand where you're coming from."

_You won't hurt him? _I confirmed.

Edward shook his head, hoping down from the stone so we were on the same level, "I won't. I know… I know it's not the right way of going about this, but I have to believe we can do _something_."

I nodded, "We can think of something, Edward. We can."

He nodded, and all was quiet for a short moment, before he spoke quietly again.

"I didn't mean for what I said to come out quite like it did. I don't want to kill the monster for his blood; I just want the world to be free of him. Carlisle the way we live here makes sense to me, I see the reason in your mind everyday, I understand it, and I respect it. This is the way I want to live Carlisle, I want to live here with you and Esme, always," he ran his hand through his hair and looked up at my warily.

I smiled, _I know you do, _"Anger never helps us make our points very well."

He let out a humourless laugh, and his face stretched into a wry grin, "You'd think, being raised by a lawyer, I'd know that."

"You aren't your father, Edward," I reminded him.

He frowned once more and nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets, "No, it seems like I'm not as good as either of them."

I shook my head, "That's not true, Edward." I spoke softly with honesty, "You are your own man, and you are one of the best men I know."

He pursed his lips and his eyes questioned my sanity - it was plainly obvious he did not agree. Our disagreeing had been a common theme in our lives as of late, and I feared in that moment we'd erupt into argument again, in fact, it had been such a very long time since Edward and I had shared a conversation that hadn't been about a topic that we disagreed on.

That was definitely something we needed to address. Edward's eyes narrowed, hearing my thoughts, and his head turned to the side in curiosity. I decided to open the conversation with something happy.

"How would you like to get the old x-ray machine out tomorrow?"

His brow furrowed, and he let out a baffled laugh, "That's not what I was expecting, your thoughts sound ominous. The x-ray machine? Why?"

I shrugged, and shuffled my feet in the most human of ways, "Before Esme, you and I had unlimited time to be friends – brothers, if you will – and there was no third party that needed any kind of attention, but then Esme came and all of a sudden she was the main focus for the both of us, she was a newborn, she had to be. I see now that was to our relationship's detriment. Where we used to debate, we now argue, where we used to discuss, we now bicker - nothing is ever positive. I didn't realise why until just now, but the only thing that has changed, is Esme and I getting married."

"I don't for a second begrudge that," Edward insisted, irritation increasing.

I nodded quickly, "I know. I know that, but I'm sure you can see, we've been avoiding this problem by creating new ones for ourselves with the sole purpose of hiding the other, but it won't hide forever, and problems have a way of just grow bigger and bigger. I wanted to run to Halifax, you wanted to drive, I suggested we teach Esme defensive moves, but you went and taught her how to fully fight, I wanted to wait until she was ready for the car, but you insisted she must learn... see, there has been nothing since Esme and I arrived back from our honeymoon that you and I have agreed on. The only two times that there was no friction between us was when Mary was here, and the week we just spent in New York – the two times when Esme's attention has been otherwise occupied."

A growl grumbled from Edward's chest, as his black eyes blazed, he looked as though he wanted to sink into his hunting crouch, "I'm not acting like a spoiled little attention-seeking child, Carlisle! And I resent you for saying that."

I shook my head, "I did not say that, and it wasn't my intention to imply it. I apologise if it seemed that way. What I'm saying is that we've not managed to find a way to be there for each other in the way that we need to be, none of us have. You have to know I am unbelievably angry at myself for that, but I see it now, I see the gaps, I see the holes, and I believe I can fill them somehow. There is a balance, theres always a balance, and we must find it. I'm not saying it's going to be easy to find, or that we're never going to find ourselves in a position like this again, but we're going to try our best, and fissures are only possible to mend when you are aware of them. Now, all it takes is hard work. In all my nearing three-hundred years on this Earth I have never come across anything as difficult as balance, because the moment you slip, you're lying face first on the floor."

"And how do you get up?" He wondered quietly, "Falling is the easy part."

I laughed a little and shrugged, "For me, the answer has always been faith."

He sighed, and sat down on the rock, "Sometimes faith is hard to find, and sometimes it's non-existent."

"Yes," I nodded, "Faith can waver, and you can fall, but the most incredible thing about faith is that after it all, there is a thing called forgiveness. If you ask for it, it will be given to you. Forgiveness is unconditional, and the Lord will always give it to a repentant heart. You only have to seek Him, and you will find His love. I believe that is how you pick yourself up after you fall. I know you know I pray a lot, but believe me I'll be praying a lot more in these coming days. I need help to right my wrongs."

"Your wrongs?" Edward wondered with raised eyebrows, looking up at me from his seat on the rock, "I think they're wrongs that belong to all of us."

I nodded, "I'm not saying this situation all my fault, there is no self-loathing inside of me at all. I know Esme and I never asked you enough if you were feeling left out - for lack of a better word - but I do believe that if we had you would have immediately said 'No.' Often, you'll find, honesty is better than telling little white lies just to be nice. The life we live outside our family is a lie, but we cannot afford to let those lies leak inside our family. We need a place to be open, to have no secrets, to have no lies, and we need that place to be between the three of us," I explained.

Edward nodded, twirling his thumbs, "I understand what you're saying, and I agree, but none of this was intentional, I didn't disagree with you just so you would spend more time with me."

I nodded with a smile, "I know. That's not who you are, Edward, but these things happen. It's not Esme's fault either, I know how much you love her, even a blind man could see it. But the balance is all out of order."

There was silence for a short moment, as I stood and watched him watching his hands in the middle of a small clearing in the woods. Edward's face was a mask of thought, as he contemplated what I had said. Then, after a short while, Edward raised his head and looked at me with a small, but genuine smile, "So, we'll get he x-ray machine out tomorrow?"

I grinned, and nodded, "There are some frogs that I'm dying to see the radiograph of."

Edward let out a laugh, "That sounds like fun, I should find some tonight."

"You won't come back?" I wondered with a raised brow.

He shook his head, standing up, "Not tonight, I need to think of a good way to apologise to Esme."

"A hug and a 'sorry' will do just fine, I'm sure."

"I know," he sighed, "But I owe her more. Besides, I think my returning won't be what she needs. I _will _come back in the morning. She needs to calm down though, I can hear her from here, that's why I didn't go further, she's worried – beyond worried. And I need to hunt."

"That's a good idea, thirst makes things worse," I nodded, "I should go back to her. I'm glad we got down to the heart of the matter, Edward."

He nodded, "I am too. I can't believe I didn't realise it sooner. I am sorry."

"So am I."

Edward cleared his throat awkwardly, and gave me a sheepish smile, "There's something I've been meaning to say, Carlisle, something I've never actually told you face to face."

That caught me by surprise, as did his suddenly bashful demeanour, "Oh?"

He nodded and let out a laugh, "I, uh, well… although this life isn't really my cup of tea, I'm glad that out of everyone, it was _you_ who changed me."

I managed a baffled smile, that wasn't what I was expecting, "Thank you?"

Edward let out another awkward laugh, "I guess, perhaps what I'm trying to say is that I, uh, well… you're not just a friend, or a mentor, or a creator to me nowadays… you really _are_ like a father, so… what I mean to say is that… I… you know…" he coughed awkwardly, "Care…a…about," he gestured in my general direction with one hand, "You."

I nodded, and smiled to myself, "I love you too, son."

"Yeah," he let out a laugh, scratching the back of his neck, "That. I uh, I meant that."

"Yes," I grinned at him, "That."

He took a deep breath, and smiled my way, before taking a step back, "Right."

"Well, I'm glad that we managed to sort out those problems."

Edward nodded, "Me too." He looked down at his feet, there was a slightly embarrassed silence, "Well, I guess I'll go."

"Yes, I'd better see Esme," I agreed, pointing my thumb over my shoulder to the house behind me.

"Yeah," he nodded vigorously, "She needs you."

"So I'll uh… See you back at the house tomorrow?" I wondered in confirmation.

He nodded again, "Yes, I'll see you back at the house tomorrow, early probably. Or later today? I didn't catch the time. Probably around sunrise."

"Okay. Well, have a good night," I murmured quietly.

"Mmm, yeah, uh… you too," he gave me another awkward wave, and then we both turned and ran away.

I had to smile to myself as I ran back. Had I realised earlier the weight resting on all of our shoulders, I would have addressed it straight away, but it hid itself so masterfully with some strange kind of invisibility, I had no real hope until it all came to explode. I could feel it somewhere deep inside me, I honestly knew that everything would be okay.

As the house came into view, with the lights pouring from the windows, I realised that Esme would most certainly not be feeling the same kind of relief that I was. All tough seeing Charles shook both Edward and I, it was obvious it would have shaken her more. Silently I berated myself, I should have stayed with Esme.

When I got to the front door, I noticed she had picked it up and leaned against the wall of the hallway. Dread settled in my stomach as I imagined her surveying the broken living room. I could smell her scent leading up the stairs, so I quickly ran up them, taking the steps four at a time. The house was completely silent, as I ran down the short hallway to our bedroom, where her scent was strongest. I found her lying absolutely still on our bed – she was in shock, I knew it. I should never have left her.

With sadness and worry filling me, I quietly took off my shoes and stripped down to my underclothes, (her unspoken rule of the bed was underclothes or no clothes) and I sat down on the bed beside her, gently running my hand soothingly through her long hair. She didn't respond to my touch, and in her state I wasn't sure that was a good sign. I wasn't going to force her into my embrace however, so I brought my legs up and lay on the bed next to her, leaning up against the headboard. I wondered for a moment what would help her get through this most, and I remembered how much hearing her voice in the car ride home helped me. So I settled on murmuring poetry.

"_Believe not those who say_," I murmured slowly and quietly in my native accent that she adored, quoting Anne Bronte, "_The upward path is smooth, Lest thous shouldest stumble in the way, And faint before the truth. __It is the only road__, __Unto the realms of joy; __But he who seeks that blest abode__, __Must all his powers employ. __Bright hopes and pure delights, Upon his course may beam, __And there amid the sternest heights, __The sweetest flowerets gleam; -__On all her breezes borne, __Earth yields no scents like those; __But he, that dares not grasp the thorn__, __Should never crave the rose…"_

She did not move, so I continued on quietly, speaking the first poems that came to mind, no matter what they were about. She began to stir as I began the fourth, and with a sombre face and sad eyes, she rolled over, and cuddled up to my side. I slid down so she could rest her head upon my chest, and began on William Blake, running my fingers soothingly through he hair.

Only a short while later, she pulled away from me, and I looked at her with curiosity. She held her arms out to me so I shuffled over closer to her, and she guided me onto my side, she weaselled her way half-underneath me, so I was nearly on top of her. I'm sure I looked quite bemused, for when she caught sight of my expression, she explained herself in a tiny whisper that had a helpless tone to it, which did funny things to my heart, "Just hide me from the world, please?"

I couldn't do anything but nod, as I once again whispered words of love into her ears in hope when our son came with the sun, order would be restored to our wibbly-wobbly world.

* * *

_A.N. __Hello faithful readers! Thank you all for your reviews! I waited until after Christmas to post this because it isn't the happiest of chapters, and I didn't want to put up a sad chapter on Christmas day. I hope you all had a marvellous day!_

_I'd once again like to thank Sara K M for beta-ing the first half of this chapter for me, making sure once again that my history is correct! _

_Firstly, as for that cliffhanger last chapter - it was not originally in there! The first half of this chapter was originally supposed to end at Charles, but it was just too long, so if it was a little anti-climatic, I apologise. It was just a way of splitting the chapter in two lol!_

_As for Charles, I wanted to put a little twist in there so I hope you guys liked it! (He was in town for the Northeast &amp; Midwest Small Business Managerial Skills Seminar, another thanks to Sara for giving me some ideas as to what Charles would work as after the war)  
I wonder if any of you thought I was going to have Edward leave the family and kill Charles in this chapter? Well, my reason for not doing so was because I think Edward's idea of bringing justice in such a way isn't just something that happened during his rebellious period (which we can also see from Midnight Sun, where he wanted to kill the men in the alley) so I wanted to explore that before he goes off. In this version of the Cullen's story, Edward is currently lacking the want to drink human blood, which is why he doesn't go off and kill just yet. There have to be a few more things happen for him to develop that... curiosity (for lack of a better word). So I hope what I've written seems realistic. _

_And as for Carlisle and Edward's little chat, did you really think Carlisle and Esme would fall into a perfect balance with Edward right at the beginning? I couldn't let them off this easily, but maybe this underlying unhappiness makes everything else in the earlier chapters make more sense? So the tension isn't just coming out of nowhere. Often in life, I find that sometimes you're unaware that you're upset about something, you just feel upset about 'nothing' or 'everything' and also sometimes you're unaware that something you're doing is upsetting someone, so that is kind of the story of the 'neglect' part of this chapter – because I don't believe that Edward would intentionally cause trouble because of an attention thing, I don't think that's him… I could be wrong, but it's more of an unintentional thing here. But now they realise what's going on, they can all fix it! (also, even though these two are articulate men, telling the person that you look up to and idolise that you care about them can be a little awkward, so all though they're not naturally the most awkward people, I wanted to just throw a spanner in the works there)._

_The poem in the end was by Anne Bronte, called 'The Narrow Way' and it is totally not a hint to anything in the future or something like that... ;) _

_And thus ends our unhappy drama for the story! Two more chapters and one epilogue of HAPPINESS! I'm looking forward to it! Well, the year is over in four or five days (depending on where in the world you are as I write this)… three chapters in four/five days… can we do it? Only time will tell._

_I'm looking forward to (and slightly scared of) seeing what you have to say about this chapter! (Sorry if I get even more slack on replies in the coming days by the way. I _will_ get around to it.)_

_Much love x_


	60. Dreams Really Do Come True

_Chapter Sixty: Dreams Really Do Come True _

_Halifax, Nova Scotia, __March 1922_

_Esme_

By mid-March, the affects that spring brought to the garden were astounding. The previously waterlogged, dying grass of the fields surrounding our old stone farmhouse had once again learned how to stand tall, and it was many brilliant shades of bright green. The deciduous trees in the distance had begun to grow their leaves, while the evergreens more than compensated for their absence.

I was floating around the empty house, relishing in the gentle breeze blowing through the open windows and doors, and basking in the quiet day. The cloud cover, although now thinning, had kept strong, thrilling both Carlisle and Edward, allowing one to head off to work, and the other to head off to town.

I'd opened every window, and every door in the house, and decided that it was high time for some more spring-cleaning; despite the fact I'd been cleaning the house all winter. My morning had been a very productive one, I'd managed to clean every hearth in the house, and rid the air of floating ash, I'd wiped the windows clean once again, I'd gardened in the conservatory, and I'd dusted the study. I wandered around the house looking for something else to do, but the house was too clean for me to try and clean it again. So I found myself upstairs in the bedroom that Carlisle and I shared, leaning against the windowsill, poking my head out the open windows listening to the birds singing in the tress basking in the warm spring song was one of happiness; it was a song of how I felt.

Since our return from New York just weeks earlier, things had all ready changed. All though I hadn't noticed it, there had been a constant tension buzzing beneath the floorboards of our new home, and walls between each of us, separating us out. But when Carlisle brought it to our attention, it was easy to find a way to eradicate it. Carlisle began to work mixed shifts at the hospital, some nights and some days, and Edward began giving piano lessons at the local music store three days a week. The days and nights that we all had free were times when the boys bonded once more over things that they adored. They played with their x-ray machine a lot, and they even managed to build themselves a lie detector modelled off one made by someone they referred to as 'Larson' who they held in very high esteem, and although they knew it wouldn't work on them, as they had no pulse, they simply _had_ to try it. They also bought me a hair dryer, which they (unsurprisingly) pulled to pieces to see how it worked, and after I used it (it overheated something shocking) they set to modifying it to make it more efficient, and safe. They fitted out the kitchen with a brand new electric oven (which they pulled to pieces first), had a lot of fun with a pop up toaster (would you believe they dismantled it?), as well as the Kitchen Aid mixer (pulled to pieces, again), and surprised me with a refrigerator! (Guess what? It was deconstructed before use!) Although we had no food to put in it, and we left it unplugged after the constant humming irritated our ears, the boys revelled in the appliances of a modern home. The devices they filled our home with were often completely useless to us, but the boys enjoyed discerning how they worked so very much, I merely watched on with love. After the fridge, they purchased an electric dishwasher, which was almost as tall as me! (After it was put back together, of course.) They went through the cupboards and dirtied every single piece of china that we owned, just so they could see how clean the machine would actually manage to get the crockery.

But there were some inventions that did have uses for us; one day Edward proudly brought home an electric vacuum cleaner, which (believe it or not) had to be pulled apart and examined before I was able to use it. I had laughed at their excitement as it turned on, and how they begged me to let them have a go at cleaning the house.

They laughed and joked about how if it weren't for a woman in the house they would have never purchased any of the items, and probably would have just managed to get their hands on some insulin to consume in hopes of seeing if it had any affect on their bodies.

We spent warm nights in front of the fire, sometimes just indulging ourselves in our own private hobbies, other times debating current issues in the news. We danced to records, listened to the radio, shared our favourite books, and basked in our mutual smiles. Edward began trying to teach me how to play his piano since my newborn strength had waned, and Carlisle had taken to purchasing art books from the seller in town, which he would bring home for him and I to fawn over, to share our likes and dislikes - which I must say were most certainly not always the same, but I wouldn't have it any other way. Edward could more often be found in Carlisle's study, or the living room rather than suffering his self-imposed exile locked away in the front room with the piano. Carlisle would usually be found behind his desk, or by Edward's side, and I spent most of my time in the conservatory, where Carlisle had built me the most beautiful pond, and small waterfall. My own library was also finished, just off the living room, backing onto the conservatory, filled with my favourite books, and all my art supplies.

During Edward's teaching days, Carlisle was often home for a few hours, allowing us to have some time alone, and all in all, our new balance was working out quite perfectly. Everything seemed to be looking up, but I wasn't quite sure how long we had left in our Halifax house… Three days after we returned from New York, Doctor Denton found Carlisle at work and offered him the job he had wanted all along, which would allow us to travel Europe and Asia while Carlisle served as a kind of international transfer doctor in hundreds of different hospitals over the coming four years. Of course, we were well aware that he would perhaps not be able to attend some of the hospitals as we would surely end up in sunny places during summer, but with my illness being common knowledge, we had a contingency plan.

We were to leave mid-April.

April was to be a bittersweet time for me, as it marked the end of my first year in this most extraordinary life, but it also marked the anniversary of the end of my last one, and my son's. So, although our days were filled from before dawn to after dusk with happiness, melancholy always had a way to sneak into my heart, and nostalgia into my mind. I had a picture of my son in my memory that I would never let go, and in my worst moments, I somehow used it to give me hope. That little bundle of joy had caused my heart to erupt, and let so much more love inside. I would not be half the person I was, had I not had the happiness of holding him. Of course, the year that passed had not been without it's dark moments, the lives I took, the ones I almost did, the dark days, the grief, and the pain, it was also filled with the happiest times that I could have never imagined.

It was those memories that I tried to remember most, as I hummed along with the birds outside my window, playing an endless stream of nursery rhymes in my head. I was so entranced by the music that we together played; I barely paid attention to the sound of tires on the driveway, or Carlisle's footsteps to the house, up the stairs, and to me. But I was surprised the day had gone so fast; I wasn't expecting him home until the late afternoon.

After a short while singing with the birds, and having him watch from behind, I turned around with a small smile to see him beaming at me from the doorway, where he was leaning up against the wall in his grey suit pants and matching waistcoat, and although he'd taken his jacket off and thrown it onto the bed, he still wore his driving hat.

"This is my favourite thing to come home to, you should know," he grinned, pushing himself off the wall to wander over to me, "You humming with the birds."

"Well, I am flattered," I murmured, "I hadn't realised the time flying by so fast, I wasn't expecting you'd be home for a long time yet."

His eyes swam with amusement as he wrapped his arms around my waist and let out a small laugh, "Love, it's only half past ten in the morning."

My brow furrowed, "Then what on Earth are you doing home?"

"I thought the clouds looked a little thin, and I really didn't want to risk having to stay late at the hospital again, so I asked to be let off early today. Doctor Denton positively adores you, so he had no qualms in granting me that wish, he sends his greetings."

Carlisle leaned down to place a soft kiss upon my lips, "I hope you don't mind?"

I grinned, and laughed, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, "Not at all, quite the opposite in fact, I am over the moon."

"And I must say, I'm glad I did. Watching you here, happy… you really blow me away."

I beamed, "How is it that with only a few words, you make me feel so bright inside?"

He grinned, nuzzling his nose against mine, "I think its love."

We stood there wrapped in each other's arms for a short moment, before Carlisle's eyes took on an excited light, "Edward has lessons until two today, I thought you and I could do something special?"

I nodded with a wide grin, "Of course! Did you have something in mind?"

"In fact I did," he said happily, placing a quick kiss on my forehead and pulling away to go and open the door to the small room we kept our clothes in. He fished in there for a short time before pulling out a blue box with a white ribbon that I'd not noticed in the closet before.

"Surprise!" He grinned, walking over and handing it to me.

I couldn't wipe the smile from my face as I took the box he offered, "You spoil me."

He laughed, "Good to know I'm doing my job right."

I laughed, shaking my head fondly, as I grabbed the ribbon and pulled it off. Carlisle's hand absentmindedly reached up to the ribbon in my hair, "You're wearing your curtain again," he grinned, "I like it, and I like your messy bun today. You look like one of those pictures out of your beloved fairytale books – like one of those princesses. It suits you."

I would have blushed if I could have, "Thank you," I giggled, putting the ribbon on the nearby bed.

"And I like this shade of pink on you," he murmured quietly appraising my dress I used for cleaning.

I laughed, "Do you like my bare feet too?" I wondered, lifting up the bottom of my dress with my free hand and wiggling my stocking clad feet at him.

He laughed, and nodded, "I like everything about you."

I laughed with him, and took the lid off of the box, to reveal the surprise inside. It was an outfit of sorts, navy blue in colour. I pulled it out of its wrappings, and placed the box down on the bed, surprised when I figured out that the outfit was a bathing suit. It had slim strips, and a thin white rope that wrapped around the waist. It was the shortest garment that I had ever seen, even the undershorts were unbelievably small.

"Don't worry," Carlisle grinned, watching me eye the hemline, "It won't be too far above the knee – so if we run into the police, we'll be fine."

I let out a startled laugh, "It's lovely, but I can't wear this around Edward!"

He shrugged, "I thought you'd say that, so it can be just for use when it's just you and I… after all, I have seen you in much less."

"Carlisle!" I laughed, "What has gotten into you?"

He beamed back at me, a cheeky light shining in his eye, and he shrugged, "I seem to remember that a certain young tree climber has a particular penchant for waterfalls, and I just so happen to know of a lovely one around here, which I've been saving for a somewhat sunny day. I thought we could go today?"

I nodded, grinning, "That sounds lovely."

We quickly changed into our swimsuits, and as promised the blue garment of mine was at a legal length, he even had a matching robe for me to wear on top. My husband was a thoughtful man. He forwent wearing a modern – and I quote – 'ghastly excuse for a swimsuit' that 'clung to all the wrong places' and instead chose to wear his shorts and an undershirt as per usual.

We left the house hand-in-hand, dashing through the forest trees to some unknown waterfall. It was, perhaps, a thirty-five minute run through the rich greens and warm browns of the forest, from our home in Halifax, and Carlisle ran the entire way with a jubilant grin upon his face, my hand securely in his. I'd always liked seeing him act twenty-three, rather than two-hundred-and-eighty-two.

We hadn't done much for his birthday that year, for he'd insisted we didn't. Edward gave him a wristwatch, which he came to like thanks to its convenience, but I spoiled him with new books, clothes (especially scarves) and paintings for his collections. After all, we could afford it, and he deserved it. He hadn't seen it coming though, as he'd asked me to manage the bank accounts for he was too busy with balancing work and family, and Edward thought it would be good mathematics practise for me. After Carlisle showed me everything and told me how he used to manage it, I actually found it rather simple, and more surprisingly, I found that I enjoyed it.

"A penny for your thoughts, love?" Carlisle wondered looking at me with that darling grin on his face, which I wouldn't help but return.

"I was just thinking about happiness," I told him quietly, "And how much I adore it."

He nodded, "I was thinking about that also. When there was that friction with Edward, we thought we were happy, but we weren't truly happy – we didn't do things like this. I can't believe we didn't see it sooner," he murmured quietly to himself.

I smiled soothingly at him, "We know what to look for now, though," I reminded him, "We won't let it get that far again."

He looked back at me with a grin, "You're right, we won't. The waterfall is just up ahead."

I'd noticed in the passed weeks that the boys no longer had a problem having conversations aloud, and I wasn't left out anymore. It was strange how one problem had so many little effects, and how one solution could solve so very many things.

Carlisle began to run quicker when we approached the waterfall, and his excitement was infectious.

The trees began to thin as we approached the clearing, and I could hear the water falling from a great height. The scent of the forest changed too, the soil became richer with the moisture, and the air became fresher – it smelled crisper – from the fresh water. Our footsteps were quiet as we sprinted toward the source of the new, and beautiful scents. The sun managed to burst through the cloudbank above, and rays filtered down in the gaps between the trees, like little spotlights of joy. Carlisle sped up even more as the water came into view between the many tree trunks ahead, and I had to remind him through my laughter, that I couldn't run quite so fast anymore.

"Oh, sorry," he murmured with a bashful grin, before quickly picking me up in a fluid motion.

"What _are_ you doing?" I wondered jubilantly.

He just grinned down at me cheekily, "I'm carrying you, milady."

I shook my head fondly at him, and smiled, but gave no reply, nor any protest. I liked him carrying me. I hadn't realised that we would be coming to the water from above, but as the trees began to thin, I could see the top of the waterfall to the right, and I knew the swimming lagoon must be below. For a moment, I thought Carlisle was just going to plunge us into the water as he headed straight for the edge, and I held onto him a little tighter, but when the ground disappeared from beneath our feet, we didn't plunge beneath the surface of the water, instead, Carlisle landed gracefully on the low stone floor by the lagoon's shore.

"Here we are," he murmured looking down at me with a small smile, "Sorry about the cliff," he grinned impishly, "But I couldn't resist, I remember the first time I jumped from a cliff was for the same purpose as when you did, but now, for the rest of forever, we can do it together."

I smiled up at him, understanding his logic, "How very poetic, Doctor, I didn't think you had it in you," I teased.

He pretended to look offended, "We both know I'm the romantic one in this relationship," he retorted with a wink, and set me down on my feet.

I laughed and turned around to appraise our surroundings. The cliff was made of grey stone, and surrounded the entire lagoon, the only ground not covered by water in the oval shape, was the stone floor we stood on, and the small grassy area behind us, which had a few trees providing a lovely cover of shade. The water was a beautiful bright blue, and it rapidly toppled over the cliff to the right, dropping what must have been a good twenty feet.

"Humans can't really get down here," Carlisle commented from beside me with a cheeky grin, "For obvious reasons."

I laughed and shook my head fondly, sitting down on the warm stone and stretching my legs out in front of me. "I love the sun," I sighed.

Carlisle laughed, "I know."

I closed my eyes, grinning, and basked in the sunlight that fell on my face, "Oh, stop being a pest and get in the water."

Carlisle's laughed echoed off the stone walls in the private little lagoon he'd found, and only stopped after his light footsteps had led him to the edge of the stone and a loud splash had signalled his entrance into the liquid.

I opened one eye and peeked out of it to watch him resurface. His hands automatically reached up to his face to wipe away the wet hair, darkened by the dampness, which had fallen into his eyes. When he looked my way I quickly shut my eye once again, but he caught me.

"I see you watching me," he teased.

I laughed, and opened both of my eyes this time. "Why wouldn't I be?" I quipped back, "You're quite nice to look at, in all honesty."

"Why thank you," he grinned, pretending to take a bow, "But I'm not the one with the magnificently glittering skin."

I nodded, "That is true, but you _are_ the one with the magnificently _glistening_ skin though."

His brow furrowed for a millisecond, before he deciphered what I meant, "The water," he nodded with a laugh, "Touché. Are you coming in my little diamond?" He wondered.

I sighed and lay back, "Let me warm up for a moment, and then I will. My skin is like ice," I smiled up to the sky, and listened to his laughter echo all around once again.

Lying on the stone, listening to Carlisle swim was a peaceful thing. It was not so peaceful the few times when he decided to splash about and 'accidently' get a few droplets on me, but it _was_ funny.

"Esme!" He called out at one point, causing me to sit up a little, leaning back with my arms behind me. I watched as he scaled the sheer cliff face, and disappeared into the trees above. He was only gone for a short while, as I scanned the browns and greens of the forest trees, before out of nowhere he erupted from the fringes swinging on some kind of handmade vine, causing laughter to erupt from my chest as I watched him plummet toward the water. He landed tactfully, so the splash he made covered the stone beside me, but not a single drop actually fell on me.

When he resurfaced, he brushed he hair from his eyes and turned toward me with a grin. "Does that remind you of anything you might have been reading last night?"

I jokingly pondered his question for a moment, "Hmmm… Ulysses? No…"

The smile immediately dropped from his face, and he became expressionless, causing _my_ laughter to echo off the cliffs.

"Tarzan of the Apes, yes," I conceded, making him smile again. "Tell me," I murmured curiously, "What happened this morning to make you so jubilant? It must have been something very good."

He shrugged with modesty, "I had a procedure that went very well."

"What kind of procedure?" I pressed, "One you hadn't done before?"

He grinned, but his brow furrowed, "How did you guess?"

"Darling, you pull off procedures every single day, yet it's not every single day you come home and swing from vines like a Greek god raised by apes somewhere in the middle of Africa."

He laughed, "You're right, but I don't want to bore you."

"Although I'll admit that the intricacy of the human body doesn't really get me super excited, I love listening to you talk about your day… I'll even come in the water."

"Well I can't say no to that," he winked, holding his arms out to me. So with a laugh, I shed my blue robe and ran toward him and the lagoon.

He caught me in his arms and swung me around, before dipping me in the warm water, and stealing a quick kiss. After a short while, he began talking about the procedure of his, apparently it was very exciting stuff, but it wasn't the detailed explanation of the esophagus that had me smiling – it was his smile… _that_ smile. He picked me up again, and spun me around in the air absentmindedly a few times while he talked, and it was during one of these spins in the air that he paused mid-sentence, and gave me the oddest look.

"First you've got the serosa – the body wall, the peritoneum, the mesentery – then the muscularis externa, which has two types of muscles, longitudinal on the outside, and circular on the inside, and then the submucosa, and mucosa. The mucosa layer is made up of three parts, the mucous membrane, the lamina propia, and the –" He blinked twice, his face somewhat blank, and then out of the blue he said, "I love you." He smiled a small smile at himself, and as though he hadn't paused for a declaration of his feelings, he continued on with what he was saying before, "Muscularis mucosa, and once you're through all of that, you can get down into the lumen, and it's the lumen that is the hole, you know where all the food goes down."

I could help laughing at him adoringly, and once he'd finished his sentence, and brought me back down to the water, I beamed at him, "I love you, too."

"Sorry," he grinned a little apologetically, "I am boring you, aren't I?"

I shook my head, "I love anything that makes you excited about this… even the wall of the esophagus."

"You'll know enough to be a doctor, soon," he joked.

I laughed, and shook my head, wrapping my legs around his waist under the water, "I think you have to have a certain passion to walk down that career path, a passion that I, personally, have directed elsewhere."

He grinned, and laughed, "I guess next time I need to go to medical school, I'll ask Edward."

I nodded, scrunching up my nose and leaning in toward him, "I think that's a better idea."

He caught my lips in a kiss, while wearing a cheeky smile, and pulled us underwater joined at the lips. But the kiss didn't last long; I broke it with laughter and swam back up to the surface.

"Aren't you cheeky today?" I teased when he resurfaced, and he flicked me a wink.

"Love, you haven't seen anything yet." Then he lunged at me, and the following hours probably taught me more about fighting than Edward ever had, but there was nothing but smiles during this one.

We packed up and ran home after Carlisle had looked to the sky and sighed, "Judging by the sun, it's nearing quarter-passed one." Ideally, we wanted to get back before Edward, so he wouldn't have to see me in my new swimsuit, and we did manage to. I ran the whole way contentedly humming to myself, which made Carlisle grin wider.

We had enough time to change out of our bathing suits before the sound of Edward's feet running through the forest could be heard. He called out a greeting as he entered through the front door, and I barrelled down the stairs, wrapping him in a hug as soon as he shut the door behind him. He was slightly surprised standing in the hallway wearing a brown suit that almost matched his hair in colour, but he soon chuckled, and returned my embrace, "Hello, it's nice to see you too."

"Did you have a good day?" I wondered, resting my head on his shoulder.

"It was good, and yours?" He wondered, as Carlisle made his way down the staircase, "It seems as though you had fun."

"We did," I grinned, "I forgot how much I love waterfalls."

He laughed, "What a great vampire with a flawless memory you are," he teased. I pulled away and walked backwards down the hall, watching as Carlisle clapped Edward on the back and they shared a grin.

"Bring anything interesting home today?" Carlisle wondered, half teasingly, half honestly curious.

Edward shook his head with disappointment, "Nothing aside from more than a dozen international newspapers we ordered, do you think when we get to Europe, we can find the robot maker we read about, and see his robot?"

Carlisle chuckled, "I think we can try, did you flick through the news yet?"

"No," Edward shook his head, reaching into his bag and pulling out folded paper, "But I caught a glimpse at some front pages, there might be some interesting things, I'm not sure."

The boys followed me down the study, where Edward spread the newspapers out on the small coffee table by the sofa in the corner, and we each picked one up. It was new ritual we'd begun two weeks ago; to monitor the current events in the countries we may find ourselves in during our travels. Although it was impossible to get news out of some countries, Carlisle had managed to find newspapers that covered enough for us.

I picked up a pink newspaper from Ireland, and settled into the beige sofa near the window.

"Anything interesting?" Carlisle wondered from his desk a little while later.

"Not a lot from India," Edward replied from the floor without looking up, "Someone called Mahatma Gandhi was sentenced to six years for sedition by the British magistrates court." Edward shrugged, and looked over to me, "Anything interesting Esme?"

"More people killed in Ireland," I sighed.

"That's not good, we're definitely going there, I know…" Carlisle pursed his lips in unhappiness, before his eyes flicked down to his own paper, "There were 100 killed in riots in South Africa earlier this month, in the following days rebels surrendered to government after been bombarded for over an hour, and two more days later the rebellion ended. Good news, I suppose? All the violence though…" He sighed.

"Well, in non-violent news," Edward let out a laugh, "The Toronto St. Pats won the Stanley cup, beating out Vancouver Millionaires three games to two."

Carlisle flicked him a grin, and I put my newspaper down, fishing for another one on the table, when the shrill phone rang, piercing through the contented quiet of the study. Carlisle sighed, and put down his paper, before picking the telephone up.

"Good evening, Doctor Carlyle speaking," he spoke clearly into the receiver.

"Doctor Carlyle," a woman's crackling voice replied, "There has been a severe emergency brought into the hospital, and we do not have enough staff to cover it. Would you please come in for surgery?"

Carlisle's eyes flickered to me – admittedly, his hesitance for leaving was somewhat flattering, but I wouldn't selfish, other people needed him too.

"Go," I smiled.

He grinned back nodding, and mouthing his thanks, before replying to the woman on the other end of the line, "Yes, I will be in within the next twenty minutes."

"Thank you, Doctor Carlyle." She said, hanging up before he could even say goodbye.

Carlisle laughed once, and shook his head, putting the receiver down before standing up. He quietly left the room to get changed as Edward I continued to read the news.

I met Carlisle in the hallway a few moments later, as he checked his medical bag, and donned his gloves. I secured his hat on his head, and bushed his shoulders, before giving him a quick kiss.

"I'm sorry, I don't know when I'll be home," he murmured, his face still close to mine.

"Take as long as you need, just come back to me," I grinned, making him smile.

"Always," he pressed a loving kiss to my cheek, and then disappeared out the door, leaving it open for me to stand in the doorway and watch him drive away, as I always did.

When the car zoomed passed the front door, I flicked on the porch light, and quietly stepped back inside. Listening to Edward's quiet footsteps make their way down the hall toward me.

I turned around with a smile, waiting for him to round the corner. His eyes were alight with humour when he saw me, so I cocked my head to the side in question.

"Your hair is still wet," Edward observed, raising his hands to gesture at the mess of wet curls I'd pinned atop my head.

I nodded, and laughed, "Yes, well, I do believe my hairdryer is still in yours and Carlisle's workshop."

Edward offered a crooked smile that had a slight impish quality about it, "Sorry about that. It'll be fixed soon."

"If I didn't trust you so much, I'd be afraid that it will blow up next time I turn it on."

He winked, "I wouldn't say it's _impossible_."

"You give me such faith," I retorted with sarcasm, making him laugh.

"How did your lessons go this morning?" I wondered, "It was young Adelia you had first, yes?"

He nodded with a fond smile, "Clumsy one, that girl. She slid on some music paper and nearly hit her head."

"But you caught her?" I checked, straightening the contents of the small table by the door that Carlisle always left in a mess while preparing to leave for work. Admittedly, it was a little cluttered.

Edward smiled leaning up on his side against the doorframe to the music room, he folded his arms and stood on one foot, I had to smile as he replied, "Of course."

"Of course," I let out a laugh with a nod, "I hope you cleaned up a little after that. Let me guess, The Blue Danube?" I hadn't the slightest idea why, but Edward did not at all have any fond feelings toward Strauss' waltz, and had a habit of leaving those compositions that frustrated him on the floor of his music room.

Edward sighed, unfolding his arms and running a hand through his messy reddish brown hair, "If only I could count the amount of times I have heard that piece, I know it so well it's like ten minutes of needles in my ears."

"Well, _I _think it's beautiful," I grinned back at him, placing a few knick-knacks in the small table's draw.

"Of course," he nodded, "I did clear it away from the door before Adelia left, but it's still on the floor."

I shut the draw and turned to face Edward, resting my hands upon my hips, trying not to smile, "Humans aren't as coordinated as we are, be careful, or design some kind of anti-slip shoes, and don't wear grey shoes with a brown suit."

"You're filled with great advice," he teased, "Is that the most important piece of advice you can give me?"

I laughed, "Oh, no, I'm sure I can think of some more."

"I challenge you to come up with one thing that you will tell me for the rest of time, which is the most important," Although his words started off as a joke, his expression was completely sincere.

"Just one? That's a little hard. Let me think about it," I grinned.

"As you wish," he laughed, stepping away from the wall and gesturing to the music room, "Would you like to go to the piano?" He wondered with a hopeful smile.

I nodded with a big grin, and matching amounts of happiness, "I'd like that."

I led the way into the music room, which I might point out, had a very nice clean floor.

"Yes," Edward murmured cheekily, "Thank you for dusting in here… again."

I ignored his teasing and sat down on the edge of the piano bench, hoping he wouldn't mind me being in his way.

He sat next to me wearing a contented smile, and lifted the lid of the keys, removing the strip of fabric atop them, before his fingers began their musical movements.

"Would you like to continue on with our lessons?" He wondered, "I could teach you something new, maybe Clair De Lune?"

I shook my head, "Will you play me something?"

He grinned, "Of course." His fingers flew into a position I knew well, and then flew over the ivory keys to produce a sound so sweet to my ears that it was almost as though it was the song of my heart.

"I haven't heard this song in a while," I murmured watching his white hands fly, "I love it, you know. It's my favourite."

Edward nodded, grinning to himself, "It was you who inspired this song, but it's not finished yet, I'm still writing it."

"Me?" I wondered in absolute surprise.

He nodded, "You hum a lot, but usually it's just tuneless. Then one day, after Carlisle gave you _that_ smile, as you call it, you started singing this melody, and then everyday when he did something to make you unbelievably over the moon, you'd hum a melody like this. Of course, over time it's changed, just like your relationship with Carlisle has. I haven't finished it yet, I'm still working it out." He grinned down at his fingers, "But every time you hear this song, it makes you happy."

"That's an understatement," I laughed, on the verge of tearless sobs. My heart was so full I felt I might burst.

He grinned, "Like right now. You're happy… You're over the moon."

My laughter continued, as I lay my head on his shoulder, and whispered, "I'm a stone's throw over Neptune, dear."

Edward grinned widely, "It's good to hear that. It makes me happy."

"So when are you planning on finishing this?" I wondered, as the calm music continued.

He shrugged, "I don't know, we've still got years to go," he reminded me.

"We've got eternity," I murmured, watching the cloudy evening sky outside the window, and the grass blowing in the wind, I sighed a contented sigh, silently thanking whoever was listening – if it was just Edward, or if there was a God, and He could hear me – for blessing me with this life, and suddenly, as I caught sight of the birds flying in the trees, it occurred to me.

"I have it," I murmured, "My one piece of advice to tell you for the rest of eternity."

"You do? What is it?" His voice was quiet; it fit perfectly with the scenery music and the peaceful day outside.

It was with a wide smile, and a heart filled with love that I managed to whisper a little louder than his beautiful tune, "It is that dreams really _do_ come true."

* * *

_A.N. Hello, hello! I'm back again! Thank you so much for all of your reviews! They really do mean a lot :) Sending thanks to Sara K M once again for her knowledge of 1920 swimsuits. _

_A lot has changed since swimsuits were last in this story - Esme doesn't have to be quite so modest around Carlisle. _

_I know in this chapter Carlisle may have seemed a little out of character, but to be completely honest with you, I have seen some of the most quiet and reserved people turn into balls of happiness and excitement when they accomplish something difficult, especially when it concerns saving a life. So, if he seemed a little over the top - at work he saved a newborn baby's life and that's why :)_

_Esme's little 'stone's throw over Neptune' saying is something I've always said a lot, except I've always said "I'm a stone's throw over Pluto" because a) it rhymes and b) Pluto is further away, but unfortunately Pluto was discovered in 1930, so Esme would know it exists, and Neptune is therefore, the furthest away. Little bit of fun planetary trivia there for you (please don't remind me Pluto isn't a planet, I've blocked that out of my mind ;) I love Pluto.)_

_Now that we're rapidly approaching the end of this particular story, if there is something that you can think of which hasn't been resolved yet, tell me? :) My thoughts have just turned into peppermint fudge from the holidays and I can't even remember what I needed to resolve anymore. Lol. If there's nothing, well that's great But if there's something, I'll either put it into next chapter or let you in on my plan for it in future stories :P_

_Looking forward to hearing from you._  
_Much love, and many thanks xx_


	61. Faith & Love

_Chapter Sixty-One: Faith &amp; Love_

_Halifax, Nova Scotia, __April 1922_

_Carlisle_

The leaves rustled in the strong wind that rattled the treetops we carefully navigated. Esme was ahead of me; I could see her caramel hair through the dark greens, blowing wildly just like the leaves, and I heard her sigh with irritation, swatting away the wayward tendrils. I'd begged her to leave her hair out, but I knew she was regretting succumbing to that request.

With every passing moment she climbed higher, and higher, right up to the tips of the swaying trees in the wild wind. It was only when we reached the top that she decided to stop and sit down. She'd found a branch that was thick enough for her liking, and she'd tiptoed to the end of it, before sitting down with a sigh and a contented smile. We were so far above everything, we could see Halifax city from far away. I settled on the branch in front of hers, not wanting to snap hers with my extra weight, and she smiled over at me.

"The wind feels lovely," she murmured wistfully, and her smile grew as it his her face, "Have I ever told you how much I love climbing trees?"

I laughed, "I had got that idea somehow."

She grinned back at me, reaching out for my hand. She absentmindedly played with my fingers as she watched the city from afar.

"What are you thinking about, love?" I wondered after a short while of quiet.

She glanced away from the city, and her golden eyes landed on me. The wideness of them made her kindness so much more pronounced, and her gentle smile told the truth of her heart.

"I was thinking about me when I was sixteen," she stated softly and simply.

"Of course," I chuckled a little, "We're up in a tree."

"Of course," she whispered quietly into the wind, "And I was thinking about endings."

"Endings?" I wondered, "What kind of endings?"

She shrugged her shoulders, which were covered by a thin blue blouse the colour of light blue larkspurs, and ran her free hand through her wild dark gold tresses. "The ending of innocence," she murmured, "The ending of life, the ending of a chapter… the ending of our time in Halifax."

"Bittersweet?" I wondered.

She smiled and nodded, shuffling on the rough brown bark of the branch beneath her, "Yes, I've grown rather fond of this little Canadian city."

I chuckled, "As have I, we can live here again, of course."

"I should know better than to get attached," she laughed, "Although I must say, I am quite attached to you."

"And vice versa, my love."

She beamed at me lovingly, "It's a good thing, you know. You're a very portable home for me to have."

"Home?" I wondered, playfully moving the fingers she was absentmindedly tugging.

She laughed, holding my hand tighter, "Yes. My home is wherever you are, so therefore you are my home."

I laughed, "I'm flattered, but if all blue marbles are red marbles, and all red marbles green marbles, then are blue marbles green marbles?" I teased, applying her logic in a slightly more twisted sense.

She sighed, and flicked me a disapproving look, but her dimples betrayed her good humour, "If all pines are trees, then are all trees pines, you say?"

I captured her dancing fingers in my own, and swung our hands between us, "And such is the question of life," I winked.

Her laughter bubbled from her chest, erasing her mock-annoyed expression and letting her spirits fly, "Such nonsense you speak sometimes."

I shrugged, grinning, looking out to the silver city in the distance, and the brown river beside it, "At least I have you to make nonsense with."

She nodded, "Always."

All was quiet for another moment, before I finally asked a question that had been playing on my mind for a very, very long time.

"Say, Esme?" I murmured, causing her to turn back to face me with a curious expression.

"Yes?" She smiled.

"Why did you climb that tree anyway? You never did say."

She grinned and let out a laugh, "No, I suppose I never did, did I?" Her eyes unfocussed, gazing at nothingness over my shoulder, "Well, to be honest, it's not the most adventurous reason as I may have painted it to be…" She allowed herself an indulgent smile before finally recounting the story of what led to our first meeting.

"_It was late afternoon, and I'd spent the entire day working on my chores as quickly as I could, so I could have some free time in the evening – and I managed it, it was actually quite the feat. So mother let me have an hour of free time, and I all ready knew exactly what I would do with it. For days I had dreamed about watching the summer sunset from the tall trees near the orchard. Although I'd been sneaking out all the time to climb the smaller ones on the other side of the farm, nothing compared to the tall trees. I knew that at sixteen, I was far too old to be climbing trees, and with every year that passed it would become more and more inappropriate. I decided because that was the youngest I'd ever be again, I'd climb it one last time, and I'd take with me my paint supplies so I could paint the sunset, and have it forever with me to see. I bundled everything into a backpack, and snuck off out the back to the tall trees. I remember the feeling of the chilling summer breeze hitting my face as I marvelled at the feeling of freedom once again. The tree was easy to climb; it always had been, with the right lumps of bark jutting out at the perfect places. It was almost as if the tree had been specifically designed for someone to climb. I got up with no trouble, and I made my way so high up, I felt like I'd left the world behind on the ground, and nothing mattered. The only bad thing about that particular tree was the narrow branches. So it was specifically designed to climb, and then fall out of, but I disregarded that and crawled to the end of the thickest branch – my favourite branch – where the leave parted perfectly for me to see, and still be disguised. I got my art supplies out of my bag – my grandparents had given me them for Christmas one year, proper oils and everything – and I waited patiently for the sun to set. I painted the leaves of the tree around me as I waited, and then just as I had finished, that beautiful big orb dropped low in the sky and coloured everything around it so many shades of pink and orange. So I quickly reached for my red paint, but in my haste I knocked it over, reflexively I moved to catch it, but the shifting of my weight must have been too much for the thin branch – it had, after all, been years since I had last sat upon that particular branch, and I would have been lighter back then, so it snapped, and it went hurtling forward taking me with it. I hit a few other branches on the way down and managed to get my hair riddled with leaves, then when I hit the ground, I landed at a strange angle, and a shooting pain seared through my leg, and help couldn't come fast enough."_

She smiled out into the distance, shaking her head, "It's ironic though, that the reason I was up there was because I was finally giving into my mother's wishes, and leaving my childhood behind," she turned to look at me with a bright smile, "I'm glad I met you, though, you delayed the process for quite some time."

I laughed, "Believe it or not," I teased, "I'm glad you met me too."

She stared at me for a short while with a contemplative light in her eye, "To kiss you and risk falling a great height, or not to kiss you and stay safe in the sky?" She mused, as I hoped she'd choose what I would choose.

In a split second she sprung from her branch and onto mine… well, on to me, really. She was in my lap one moment, my arms automatically wrapping around her frame as her lips claimed mine, and then just like the branch in her story had, the branch beneath us broke from the burden of our shared weight. It snapped with a loud, creaking crack, and together we began plummeting toward the ground. Her arms were wrapped around my neck tightly as we fell, and even though the ground couldn't hurt us, and I had enough time to rearrange us so we were standing up if I had wanted to, I was glad that I was underneath her, so it was my back that was destined to come into contact with the dirt floor.

With a loud bang the ground and I collided, making a large dent in the dirt. There was silence for a moment as I silently prayed there were no wanderers out our way that would come rushing to see what had happened. The quiet moments that followed, however, brought with them no sound of sloppy footsteps in the dirt, so I let the smile that had been tugging at my lips, fully take over them, and Esme rolled off of me laughing.

I couldn't help but chuckle along, "Well that was fun," I grinned.

She nodded as her laughter floated away with the wind, and her jubilant grin melted perfectly into a contented expression. Her eyes carefully watched the leaves above her, as mine carefully watched her face.

"I feel sixteen again," she whispered as though it was a grand secret she could only share with me.

Oh, how that light in her eyes looked sixteen again, "Tell me something your sixteen year old self would have said."

Slowly she turned her head to face me, her hair was covered in the dirt I had disturbed when we landed, and looked at me like I was something she'd never seen before in her entire life. I didn't think I'd ever get used to that, "You're eyes are like a kaleidoscope of stars," she whispered, reaching up to stroke my cheek, "And I love you."

I caught her gentle fingers that traced over my cheekbone, and brought them down to my lips to kiss, "As I love you, my darling."

As she smiled with the delight that nearly always came after I told her that I loved her, I realised that if my eyes were a kaleidoscope of stars, then hers were the entire galaxy.

"Will you tell me what you and Edward are up to yet?" Esme wondered, and I chuckled, shaking my head.

"It's a surprise," I told her for the umpteenth time, "You'll find out when it happens."

She sighed, and shook her head. Only a few days before, I had seen a flyer advertising the release of a motion-picture entitled _Sherlock Holmes_, based on the play of the same name, with characters taken from Esme's all-time favourite stories, and I knew she would love to go and see it. I also knew that taking her to the cinemas with humans in close proximity, and no fresh air would be a terrible, terrible idea, and she would not be able to focus on the show enough to enjoy it. Walking down the street with the flyer in my hands I was struck by a brilliant idea, so I rushed back to the cinema, and I pre-purchased every ticket to the next empty screening. I'd told Edward about it as soon as I arrived home, and we decided to keep it as a surprise. Esme would, no doubt, be over the moon. Edward was going to duck by the cinema after his final piano lesson of the day to make sure that the doors had been opened long enough so the scent of human wouldn't completely overwhelm Esme. The film was scheduled to start at seven that night, and judging by the dropping position of the sun in the sky behind the grey clouds, I estimated the time to be mid-afternoon.

"But speaking of the surprise," I murmured, "We should started heading back home soon, so we can get ready."

She sighed, and eyed me contemplatively, "But I haven't the slightest clue as to what I should wear. You'll have to give me a hint."

I grinned, and pushed up off of the ground, reaching a hand out to help her up, "Nice try, but I'll not give up that easy."

Her lips pursed, and brows furrowed in annoyance, but she took my hand none-the-less and gave me a quick kiss in thanks.

The back of her blouse and skirt were all covered in dirt, and her hair was laced with it too. "You're all dirty," I chuckled, reaching up to brush her back, as she tired (unsuccessfully) to glance over her shoulder.

"I'll bet yours is too," she murmured.

"I didn't think you approved of betting," I teased.

She gave me her most reapproving look, "I know you know I meant it as a figure of speech, you're just pulling my leg."

I chuckled, and once I was done dusting the dirt off her back, I tried to reach around to get mine, but Esme sighed, and turned me around, "Oh, just let me take care of you for a moment. No protesting."

I didn't protest, I merely basked in the fact that I'd found someone who loved me so, and that made her want to take care of me. It was a novelty I was still growing accustomed to.

Once we were both mostly dirt-free, we set off into the woods, running as fast as we could, back toward our old stone farmhouse on the outskirts of Halifax.

It was empty when we reached it, and upon opening the wooden front door, I spied the clock, which read a half passed three.

"Edward should be home around four," I murmured, "Shall I run you a bath?" I wondered, as she headed toward the staircase.

She turned around and grinned cheekily at me, then let out a little laugh, "Your hair is still filled with dirt too, you know."

Catching onto her mood nearly instantly, I chased her up the stairs to the bathroom, for the next half hour, we basked in the hot water and each other's company.

When we rose from the bath, Esme let me try out her new hairdryer on her long hair, which was an interesting experience. Although Edward and I had managed to reduce the machine's overheating problem somewhat, it still grew very hot in my hand, and I worried a time or two that I would somehow set her hair on fire… Thankfully, both hair and hairdryer survived.

Esme dressed in her favourite silk robe as she wandered into the closet and tried to pick put what to wear. I could wait to take her to exotic places and by her the most interesting and beautiful things for her to wear. I found it somewhat humorous that the things I anticipated with excitement in the continent I had once travelled alone, were entirely different from those that I looked forward to last time. It was to Esme and Edward I owed thanks for that.

Speaking of Edward, the familiar sound of the tires turning onto our driveway came to my ears about then, and I quickly reached into the closet, where Esme sat cross-legged on the floor looking around at all the clothes she owned, to grab my suit, and chuckle quietly to myself. Quickly putting my clothes on, I headed out of our bedroom and down the stairs to greet Edward as he came in the door.

"Good day?" I wondered as he quietly closed the door behind him.

He smiled over at me and shrugged, "The Thomas twins missed their lessons so it went a little slow in the middle, but I think they both have a head cold, so I'm glad they didn't come. Lucy is only six, and I think she's had nearly every illness under the sun."

I nodded, "Doctor Denton personally attends to her, she's always at the hospital, poor thing. Terrible immune system. She can't even attend school, she has to have private teachers and whatnot. Did you say that Adelia is your eldest student?" I wondered.

He nodded, "Yes, she's just turned ten."

"It must be going aroundthe entire primary school,they'll all be sneezing and sniffling for the coming weeks."

He nodded with a furrowed brow, Edward wasn't a fan of sickness, "How was your afternoon?" He wondered.

"Good, we went out tree climbing," I grinned.

Edward laughed, "A good idea. Has she made any guesses about tonight?" He wondered.

"No, but she's begged for a lot of hints."

"She can hear you, you know," Esme's voice – filled with humour – came from upstairs.

"Good afternoon, Esme!" Edward called out.

Her quiet feet quickly made their way from the bedroom, down the hall, and down the stairs to where we were standing. She's chosen a golden dress that matched her eyes, but she hadn't quite got to putting her hair up, or her shoes on – she was in too much of a rush to greet Edward.

"Hello, sweetheart. I'm sorry to hear your day was slow." Bless her kind heart, her words were murmured in complete honesty judging by the crestfallen expression on her face.

"No matter," Edward grinned, "Plenty of excitement planned for the coming years." He let out a laugh, "And tonight. Speaking of which, may I go and change?" He wondered amusedly, eyeing the blocked passage up the stairs.

"Oh, yes," Esme murmured, backing back up them, "Of course, silly me," she giggled, before dashing back up the stairs to finish getting ready, which left me to retire to my study until Edward had changed.

He didn't take long – just minutes later he came strolling into my study dressed in a dark grey suit, with his wild bronze hair standing up at odd angles on the top of his head.

"Everything was clear this afternoon," he smiled, "Although the owner is on to you, he's finally figured out why…" Edward trailed off at looked to the roof in Esme's direction.

_She listening? _I guessed.

He chuckled, and nodded.

_He's finally figured out why I bought out the whole cinema?_

"An exorbitant grand gesture for the wife," he nodded again, "He wishes he could have afforded to do the same when he was young."

_Well, if we weren't vampires, and it wasn't necessary, I'm not entirely sure I would have thought of it._

Edward shrugged, "I think you would have. But there was something else I wanted to talk to you about…" His eyes drifted to where Esme was, once again, and I caught on immediately.

Charles. We were still yet to do anything about him… _Have you thought of anything?_ I wondered.

Edward sighed, walking over to the sofa in the corner and sinking into it, "No." He groaned, "And I can't think of anything that's not... macabre. And the police don't take domestic violence cases seriously, even if Esme wasn't supposedly dead they wouldn't do anything. But she is 'dead', and we have no evidence, so there's nothing legal we can do… Not to mention we're running out of time."

"Edward," I murmured gently, "We _have_ run out of time, we leave just the day after tomorrow." _That's not long enough to get down to Columbus and back, besides what if he's moved? What if he's still in New York? By the law, our hands are tied, we can not make him commit a crime, and I'm not sure about you – even though I'd like to think I could, for Esme, I'm not entirely sure I would be able to kill a man. Even a despicable man like that… I'm torn. _

Edward's frown was pronounced, and the defeated slump of his shoulders upset me so, "I know," he sighed in sadness, "It's not right."

"I agree," I slumped back in my seat, and ran my hands through my hair, "It goes against everything in me, not to do something… but _what_?"

Edward's head fell back and he shrugged, "Nothing. There's… nothing."

It was Esme's soft footsteps moving down the stairs that ended our conversation. We listened quietly as she made her way down the hall and to the study. I could tell from her thoughtful expression that her mind was miles away as she toyed with the long necklace draped around her neck. She looked beautiful, as always, decked out in gold with her white gloves and diamond earrings.

Her face lit up as her eyes found Edward and I after she entered the room, "So," she grinned, "What's the plan?"

Edward chuckled from his spot on the sofa and straightened up, "Nice try, but we're not giving up the surprise that easily."

Esme sighed dramatically, but smiled, "Oh well, I tried. When are we going?" She wondered, looking my way.

"Well," I murmured, "It's a quarter passed four now, if we leave in say…"

"Five minutes?" Edward suggested, "We'd get there at between half-passed and quarter-to."

"And our engagement doesn't start until seven."

"But you should get there perhaps twenty-minutes before hand?"

"Yes, so that leaves roughly two hours."

"Nearly everything will be shut by now but…"

"Perhaps we could go for a stroll?"

"The lake will be nice at sunset, even though it's slightly brown."

"What do you think, love?" I wondered, but Esme wasn't paying attention to my question, she was silently laughing to herself, her eyes flickered between Edward and me.

"Look at you two," she laughed shaking her head, "Finishing each other sentences and everything."

Edward and I shared a grin, "Well, it does help when one of the pair is a mind reader," he teased.

We shared a laugh, before deciding that stroll around town before the movie sounded like a good idea. Edward donned his outerwear in a flash and sprinted out to get the car as I helped Esme into her coat.

"What is Edward going to do in town while we go to our event?" She wondered, slipping her arms into the thick beige wool.

"I'm not sure." I murmured absentmindedly, and shrugged into my own coat as she fixed a hat to her head. I offered Edward to come, and I truly wouldn't have minded if he did, I knew how much he loved the cinema, and I knew Esme wouldn't mind if seeing the movie was a date, or a family night out – either would make her happy. But he never replied.

By the time I had my gloves and hat on, Edward had the car idling outside the front door. I helped Esme inside, and then we were off on our way into Halifax.

I always liked the way the afternoon light lit the sky in a dim, somewhat sombre kind of way – it was almost twilight, the happiest time of day. The cloud cover was thick, darkening the day before the sunset, but that suited us quite well – and even better, it wasn't raining. The ride into town wasn't long, we didn't talk much as we drove but Esme hummed quietly to herself, and Edward joined in after not too long.

Edward found a park near to the cinema, so we wouldn't have to walk to far when it was dark, not that it really made any difference to us.

As Edward had predicted, most stores were either closed or closing, so we didn't bother even contemplate shopping, instead we slowly made our way to the park, Esme's arm wrapped in mine, chatting away about our travel plans. My last shift had been the day before, Doctor Denton had thrown me a going away party, and purchased a lovely blanket for Esme 'to keep her warm on the chilly nights', she was delighted of course, although I wasn't sure she'd grow quite as attached to it as she was to the afghan the Fortendue's made her as a wedding gift. We'd packed up all the possessions we needed for our travels, and sent them off to our Irish accommodation that awaited us. Denton had given me the tickets for the passage over to the United Kingdom leaving from New York, and we had found a needy family to give them to with no questions asked. Everything seemed to be falling into place for our grand adventure. I'd even received a letter back from a nomadic friend I had made many, many years ago in Ireland - Siobhan - whom I wrote to out of respect, to let her know when and where we would be arriving. Vampires could be very territorial; it was best to give forewarning when planning to come onto their land. I was surprised the letter had reached her, she was not the kind I knew to keep a permanent residence, and I only sent the letter with a faint hope that it would find her in the abandoned castle that I once had. She wrote that she and her mate had also seen many changes since we last met, and she was eagerly anticipating meeting the new members of my coven. I was not so eager, but rather, slightly apprehensive about meeting her new coven member, and introducing my own. She was a fierce warrior, but a good friend. I knew Esme shared my slight apprehension, but Edward was excited to meet more of our kind. If there was one place we would not be going during our trip to Europe it was anywhere near Florence, Italy. Aro would understand my hesitation if ever we should be reacquainted, but I cringed to think of his interest in Edward.

"Shall we take a seat on that bench up there?" Esme wondered, gesturing to a wooden bench under a large tree, facing out toward the lake, "It'll be a nice spot to watch the sunset."

I agreed, but Edward excused himself, murmuring mysteriously about some place he had to go. We bode him farewell before we parted and headed to take a seat. The sun sunk slowly beneath the horizon as Esme and I basked in our comfortable silence, watching the stray passer-by and examining the beautiful colours that God painted the sky.

"Have you thought of any place we might go when we come back from our travels?" Esme wondered quietly at one point.

I shook my head, "No, it depends on where you and Edward would like to be. There are hospitals nearly everywhere, so it doesn't bother me too much. I know Edward would love to attend an ivy college sometime, but we have eternity for that to happen."

She nodded thoughtfully, her eyes took on a pink tinge from watching the sunset, "We should do that – make him happy."

"I have to make sure you're happy too," I murmured quickly reaching for her hand.

She turned to look at me with a loving smile upon her face, "Just as long as I'm with you, I'm over the moon."

I squeezed her hand and nodded, "Preferably with a house too," I teased.

She laughed, "Well, yes. Ideally with a house, one that needs a little love."

My chuckles joined in with her as I looked back out over the murky river, "Of course. You know, when I purchased the house we're in now, I was so nervous it would be too broken down for you, but do you know what Edward said? He told me that 'Most of all, she loves a disaster, so she can love and nurture it. Then, it turns into something extraordinary.'"

She rested her head on my shoulder, smiling, and I murmured, "He couldn't have been more correct."

Time passed quickly, and before we knew it, it was nearly time to head back toward the car where the cinema was, but before we could go, I had something to give her.

"I think it's time to reveal your surprise," I murmured, as she straightened up. She cocked her head to the side and watched me curiously, as I reached into the front of my jacket to pull out the tickets I had purchased.

There were a few too many, and I couldn't quite fit them all into my jacket, but I was hoping she'd get the idea. Her face lit up as I opened my hands to reveal the small pile of paper with little printed words on them. Gingerly she reached out to pick it up and examine it.

Her eyes opened wide with surprise as she read the words on the small object, then, with her mouth slightly ajar she looked up to me in astonishment, "We're going to see a motion picture?"

I grinned, and with a nod I pointed out, "Not just any motion picture…"

"Sherlock Holmes," she breathed, "Oh, but the cinema, there's no fresh air, how will I…" she trailed off as her eyes fell back on the pile I held in my hands, "Carlisle, you didn't?" She whispered.

"Didn't what?" I wondered with mock innocence.

"Did you buy out the entire theatre?"

With a chuckle, I nodded again, "It just so happens, I did."

Many emotions flickered across her face as she processed the information – surprise, disbelief, happiness – and then she finally settled on adoration, "I'd kiss you if those two by the river weren't not-so-secretly staring at us," she murmured.

My eyes flicked to a couple by the railing who kept on glancing over at us, watching.

I laughed, and stood up before offering my hand to her, "Well, there'll be no one in the cinema," I joked.

She beamed as she stood up and wrapped her arm through mine, "Have you ever seen a motion picture before?" She wondered.

I shook my head, "This will be my first."

"Me too," she breathed, "Oh, however did you keep this a secret? I would have been buzzing with far too much excitement to keep it from you!"

"I can tell," I laughed, "Another reason why I adore you so."

"Sherlock Holmes," she murmured in wonder as we made our way back toward the theatre, "At the movies! Are you sure Edward isn't coming?"

I shook my head, "I did offer, but he didn't reply, and he disappeared earlier, so I'm guessing not."

She nodded, and stared at her ticket with astonishment the entire walk.

When we arrived at the cinema, we were greeted by the same man who sold me the seats, he grinned as we approached, "Good evening Doctor Carlyle, Mrs. Carlyle. How are you this evening?" He wondered.

"Very well, thank you sir," I replied to the balding grey haired man with tanned skin, "And how do you do?"

"Very well, thank you," he nodded, "Your entrance is down the hall, first door on the left." He gestured to the dark hallway to his right, and after giving him our thanks we followed his directions.

The theatre building was small, and held three different cinemas in it, all of which had the same dark red seats and white moulding on the walls. When Esme and I entered the empty cinema she led us down the small walkway, and chose seats directly in the middle of the room. There were quiet a few seats filling the room, which smelled of popcorn, candy, and oddly held faint traces of Edward's lilac and honey scent from earlier in the day. I was pleased that the alluring scent of humans was mostly undetectable.

"How are these seats?" Esme wondered, looking up at me.

I grinned, and reached out for her hand that rested on the armrest, after I sat down, "Perfect."

She beamed back, "I'm so excited. Thank you for bringing me here, Carlisle."

I reached out to gently stroke her face, "Anything to make you happy love… but how about that kiss?" I teased.

She laughed, and quietly brought her lips up to mine. I'd forgotten about the presence of the man running the film in the room behind us, for we were soon interrupted by the flicking sound of the projector coming to life.

The lights in the room flicked off, as the screen in front of us illuminated and cheery music began to play. The credits took a short moment to pass before the actors appeared on screen. I marvelled at the moving pictures silently as I watched, imagining the words on the intertitles to be coming out of the actor's mouths.

We watched with captivation for a long while, as the story of Prince Alexis, Sherlock Holmes, Doctor Watson, and Professor Moriarty unfolded.

It was during one particular scene with Sherlock and Watson exercising their impressive teamwork, when Esme tilted her head closer to me, and murmured with her eyes still fixed to the screen,

"They make a great team, you know… kind of like you and me… We could be Sherlock and Watson," she flicked me a grin as I quietly chuckled.

"And because I'm a doctor, that would make me Watson, and you Sherlock, is that how it goes?" I wondered teasingly.

She laughed, nodding, "You said it, not me."

I chuckled along with her, and just as I was about to reply, there was a surprise "_Shhh_!" from the back row.

Esme and I both turned around in surprise and alarm, only to see a familiar head of reddish-brown hair popping up from the back of the front row.

"Edward?" Esme asked in astonishment, "Is that you?"

From behind the seat, and underneath the messy mop of hair, a pale familiar face with golden eyes and a crooked smile rose, "I wanted to see the movie too," he grinned, "But you two keep talking through it!"

"Are you interloping on our date?" I wondered grinning.

His brow furrowed as his cheeky smile widened, "No… I was invited."

Esme's laughter filled the theatre, and she gestured for him to join us in the middle row. Edward sprung up from his spot, and climbed over the red fabric seats behind us to reach us.

"Were you sitting on the floor?" She wondered.

He nodded impishly, "I really didn't want to interrupt… that much."

We laughed as he settled into his seat next to Esme, then flicked us both another cheeky grin, "Oh, and by the way. Yes, Carlisle, you're Watson, but Esme, _I'm_ Sherlock, you're Watson's wife, Mary."

Esme looked downright offended at Edward's words, as her mouth formed a perfect little 'o', and her thin eyebrows pulled down crinkling her forehead. Edward snickered to himself as she regained control, then shrugged, turning to look back at the movie screen, "I like Mrs. Watson. At least she's married to Doctor Watson." She murmured in a very matter-of-fact tone.

Edward nodded, and sighed wistfully, "Yes, and Sherlock is left to be alone… forever."

Esme turned back to him as the screen once again cut from Gustav von Seyffertitz's face to the black screen with white writing, and the piano played a slew of diminished chords. Her expression was soft, "That was only one person's interpretation of Sherlock's life, you know."

"Yes," Edward shrugged, "It was the interpretation of the person who wrote it."

Esme shrugged, "But Sir Conan Doyle did tell the writer of the play that this film is based on, 'You may marry him, murder him, or do anything you like to him' so Sherlock doesn't always have to be alone.

"It just goes to show, you write your own story, nobody can write it for you, just as you live your own life. You don't do what someone else says you should because that's their version of right, you do what _your_ version of right tells you to do. As long as it makes you happy, and it doesn't hurt anybody, I can't see what's wrong with that. Your future is yours to choose. It is our choices that define us as a person, no matter what circumstance we may find ourselves in; it is what we make of it that matters. If Sherlock didn't like where he was in his life, if he didn't want to live forever alone, then he wouldn't have. The right people come into our lives in the strangest of places, when you least expect it – look at me, a broken leg, and a broken heart, those were the two times I fell into Carlisle's life. In the meantime we must live a life that would make the type of person whom we want to spend the rest of eternity with, want to spend the rest of eternity with us too. We find something to believe in, and we follow it," her voice softened, "We find a faith, if you will," she smiled and looked back up at the screen. John Barrymore's face reflected in her eyes as the black and white light lit her face in the dark cinema, "And here's the thing I've learned about faith – it is not something that you follow half-heartedly, see… hand in hand with faith, is _always_ love."

Edward smiled, nodding slightly to himself, as he turned back to face the screen, and I stared at Esme in wonder for a short time, until she caught my eye and smiled lovingly back up at me, giving my hand a little squeeze, with the flickering black and white light illuminating her cheek. I smiled back just as adoringly. Turning back to the screen, I saw Sherlock was with Watson for a brief moment before the screen once again cut to the intertitle, and I couldn't help but smile and what appeared.

"_It was extraordinary Watson – seeing that girl again – made me almost forget my purpose – I wanted to take her away."_

Oh, how I knew exactly how he felt. My eyes drifted down to Esme once again, she was grinning widely at the screen – as much as she loved mystery, her heart had a soft spot for love.

_Love_.

What an extraordinary thing… If I could have told Sherlock anything, I'd tell him to take her away if she loved him back like Esme loved me, because letting her go once, was one too many times.

_Yes, _I thought half to Edward, half to myself, _she's right_, I smiled widely, and squeezed her hand I held in my own, before turning back to the film on the screen in that dark little empty movie theatre, _hand in hand with faith, is __**always**__ love._

* * *

_A.N. Hello, hello! Once again, thank you all for your reviews! Faith &amp; Love has been nominated for the Top Ten Fics Completed in December! So if you loved Faith &amp; Love and want to vote, head over to www . twifanfictionrecs . com. Thank you! :D_

_This one is probably going to be a long Author's note, so I don't have to put a long one in the next chapter, and I can just post it up quickly once I'm done (which will be soon!) But first, a few notes on this chapter!_

_When I was researching swimwear for the last chapter I came across a picture of actress Loretta Young in a swim suit, and I though 'oh, she looks a little like Esme'! And so then I found this gif set of her at 14, and suddenly I thought to myself, I haven't written Esme's version of the debacle with the tree yet! (At least, I don't think I have...) So that's how that ams to be! The link to the gif set is on my profile :)_

_As far as I know, during silent movies live music was usually played in the theatre, but for the sake of Esme in this chapter we can just imagine that the music was played from a separate device, or the musicians were in another room, or something so she didn't have to smell them… You choose!_

_I actually found this movie on Youtube (believe it or not!), so if you like silent movies just search Sherlock Holmes 1922, and it should be there. _

_Now, for the chapter unrelated things: _

_I have to thank you all for your continued faithful following this entire story, it definitely wouldn't have been quiet what it is without all your feedback and suggestions! I do hope you continue reading as we follow the Cullens through the years! Speaking of which, look out for the first chapter of FINDING HOME on New Years day... Well, New Years Day somewhere in the world! If you want to read it, I'd suggest putting me on Author Alert, or just checking my profile every once in a while. After I post chapter one however, I will be taking a short break (I just want to get chapter one up soon after this, so you can find it :) ), but my short break definitely won't be long. I'll also be tweaking earlier chapters of Faith &amp; Love, but I'll tell __you which ones in my Authors Notes of FINDING HOME._

_In the meantime, if you want some other things to read, I'd __recommend **Jessica314'**s entire collection of stories (**The Tale of Years Series** is perfect if you want more prequel style stuff!) and all of her stories are complete! __If you want an All-Human beginning's story look up **Sara K M**'s **Young Love in Old - Fashioned America**, Sara also has some awesome one-shots, so check them out too if you haven't all ready. A lot of my lovely reviewers write also! Although I have been busy with writing Faith &amp; Love, and I haven't got around to checking out everyone's stories, it's definitely on my (infinite) to-do-list!_

_Well, it's New Years Eve for me, hopefully the epilogue will be up soon, and I shall spend the rest of my night drinking virgin mojitos, eating chocolate cake and re-watching full seasons of my favourite TV shows._

_Once more, _**Thank you **_for reading my (rather long) little story. I hope you all had safe holidays, and you have a beautiful and prosperous new year ahead of you._

_Much love, _

_Miki xxx_


	62. Epilogue: The Risks You Dare to Take

_Epilogue: The Risks You Dare to Take_

_April 1922_

On the outskirts of Ashland there was a funny old house surrounded by isolation. Everyone knew where it was, and why it was empty, and naturally, everyone was filled with an odd sense of apprehension about the dwelling, which prevented their prying eyes from looking. It was made of dark weatherboard, two-storey with a porch, and windows with beautiful curtains. No one visited the abandoned house, and that suited everyone very well.

But had they opened that wooden front door, they would have been surprised, for somehow that old Ashland home looked delightful inside. The closest anyone had come to entering the house, were some strangers who had driven by and wondered about it, but when they inquired about it in town, they were told of the three people to whom it belonged.

"You have to have seen them," the dressmaker said, "You'll never believe what I say. Snow-white skin and golden eyes, we dressed her on their wedding day. No one knows where they've gone, one day he just resigned, they packed up and left town, leaving nothing but dust and whispers behind."

In the years that followed in small Ashland town, the story of the three with pale skin got around, but it became more of a myth than a fact, because those three left, and they never looked back.

It was on the shore of St. John's, Newfoundland, in April nineteen twenty-two, that a family of three snow-white skinned, and golden eyed God-like beings stood.

The small, secluded beach had rough waves caressing the rocky shore, and lapping at the frozen feet of the very pale, small family. The bronze haired boy was laughing excitedly, bringing such joy to the faces of his mother and father, who held hands on the shoreline. Their clothing blew in the cold, cold wind, but it didn't seem to bother them at all. The two men had bags slung on their backs, and the woman stood shaking her head fondly at the youngest member of the family. He was teasing her about something – most likely the trousers she was wearing, and hated – but she didn't mind being the topic of his fun, as long as it made him happy.

"Shall we head out now?" the young boy wondered, with cheekiness in his eyes, and a thumb pointing over his shoulder, "Or are we waiting for summer to arrive?"

The older man – a tall blonde with the same golden eyes – smiled at his son and let out a laugh, "We're waiting for you to lead the way, Edward."

Edward looked disappointed, as his shoulders slumped and his face turned blank, "Whoever said that was my job?" He wondered with a slight whine.

"If I remember correctly," the woman with light brown hair replied, "It was you who asked for that job, Edward."

Edward shrugged his shoulders and took a brave step forward into the water, into the future, into the great unknown.

"Is it cold?" The woman teased with a joking smile upon her lips.

"Oh, it's chilling me to the bone," the boy replied with just as much sarcasm drenching his tone, "I don't think I'll be able to bear this cold."

The blonde-haired man laughed, and gave the boy's shoulder a shove, "Go on, be brave," he joked.

Edward looked offended as he turned around to flick a mock glare at the man, "Thank you for your support, Carlisle. It's always appreciated."

The woman laughed at her two boys, her eyes shone with their usual fond light.

"And Esme too! You two are so unsupportive of me," Edward couldn't keep a straight face as he teased the two beings he loved like parents, and soon all three of the pale people on the stony beach were laughing together.

Excitement for their adventure was floating in the air, travelling with the wind across the vast Atlantic Ocean. It had not quite been an entire year since Esme had joined the two men, but sometimes it felt as though there had never been a time before her, yet Carlisle was acutely aware of all the days he'd waited for her.

"Well," Edward announced with a deep breath, "Here goes nothing… I guess I'll see you on the other side?"

His parents nodded, "Try to keep swimming as straight as you can, and hopefully we'll end up on land on the other side of the ocean. I'm hoping we don't still retain the human tendency to travel in circles when lost."

Edward chuckled, "If I had a drink to raise, I'd toast to that." But he didn't, so instead he tipped an imaginary hat, and bravely marched forward into the rough waters that separated them from their destination.

"Don't swim too fast!" Esme called out, but Edward merely waved in acknowledgement of her words. Neither Esme nor Carlisle was sure what that meant, but soon enough and before they could ask, Edward's wayward bronze hair that stuck up in angles everywhere, disappeared beneath the surface of the water, and they stood alone on the rocky shore.

"Well," Carlisle murmured, looking down at his wife, "Shall we follow?"

She took a deep breath - a human gesture - and gave a definite nod with a tiny smile, "You'll stay with me?" She checked, with a slight inch of apprehension inside of her heart.

He nodded, "Of course, I'll not let you out of my sight. Although I hope you never come to find you doubt it, you are far too important to me to risk losing."

Her smile grew larger with happiness, "Oh, I know," she murmured, "But I worry."

He chuckled quietly and grinned back at her, "Oh, I know. And still I love you so."

He bent down slightly, and she rose on her toes, before their lips came together in a kiss.

Even though in the months that had passed from the time when they'd finally plucked up the courage to tell one another how they felt, they'd shared many a kiss, many beautiful kisses, none would ever be more important than another. To a man who had lived nearly three hundred years without knowing such a love, kisses were not things he could ever afford to take for granted.

When they pulled away, they stared into the depths of the others eyes, and silence engulfed their secret little world.

He broke the stillness with a quiet murmur, "Are you ready?" He wondered, and she nodded.

"I'm as ready now, as I ever will be."

As they looked to each other with love in their eyes, the blonde doctor couldn't help but think of Europe in past times. He'd been alone - so lonely, but as he looked down at his wife, he knew that would never be again. It was together, hand in hand, side by side, that they walked forward into the water, to begin the next chapter in their life.

And as the water lapped over the tops of their heads the rocky shore of the beach was empty once again, just as if they had never once been there. That would be the story that followed the everywhere, just whispers of '_maybe',_ just rumours of '_definitely'_, but only few really knew the true story of '_eternity_.'

Their pasts were hard and dark, but their future was bright. Bright like the millions of stars in the night sky he could see in her eyes, and bright like the sun that she knew that he was.

And they both had jumped from treacherous cliffs, they both had fell from great heights, and it was only within each other that they found their wings and learned to fly. So forever they soar far, far above, and our sweet eternal story, begins and ends with _Faith &amp; Love._

* * *

_A.N. Fanfiction is having some issues with showing reviews, as I'm sure some of you know, so I shall reply to your lovely reviews from last chapter as soon as I can. Thank you all so much for sharing your thoughts with me.  
__Faith &amp; Love has been nominated for the Top Ten Fics Completed in December! So if you loved Faith &amp; Love and want to vote, head over to www . twifanfictionrecs . com. Thank you! :D_

_I am over the moon to finally say 'Faith &amp; Love' will now be marked as complete._

_Thank you, much love, and wishing you a very, very, very _Happy New Year.


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